Fallen Wings
by Dawning Angel
Summary: When Raziel throws his apprentice, Will, from the heavens and curses him to never be loved for the crime of saving Jem's life on earth, can Will ever find peace in London? Only his past can unlock the secret of how to save Jem's life when it is threatened once more, and only his heart can show him the way to protect those he cannot live without.
1. Falling

**Hello everyone =)** **Please consider the events in this between Clockwork Prince and Clockwork Princess in terms of storyline for all characters except Will. I'm updating this weekly, so keep an eye out.**

** I also want to dedicate this fic to my awesome sister, who gave me the tiny glimmer of an idea that became this story. So this one is for you, Coco-neechan. 3**

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_Just a little to the left. _Will let out his breath in a satisfied smile as the dagger he'd thrown had landed dead-centre in the moving target, which had then slowed to allow him to retrieve the weapon. "And that-" Will said to a group of about twenty in front of him. "Is what you're working towards. Everyone pair up, and practice keeping your focus on the targets."

As they made their way to the dozen or so stationary targets a few meters away, Will whistled to himself. It wasn't a bad job, really. Teaching the Mists could be fun, particularly when they looked at him in amazement like after the most recent demonstration. Will rushed over to stop one of them cutting themselves by holding the grip of the dagger incorrectly.

That wasn't fair on them, to refer to them as Mists. They were all Nephilim who had died recently and had ascended to _here. _Some people thought of it as heaven, others purgatory and others a kind of new life. Looking over the group, Will sighed. There were more and more young Nephilim, under twenty five years old. When you ascended, you arrive at the age you died – Will looked down at his own body, that of a seventeen year old. He couldn't remember how he'd died, but then again, it didn't strike him as something he'd want to remember anyway. However, the curiosity was always there.

Biting back a curse, Will helped another Mist, around twenty, who'd lost his balance. "My thanks!" He said. "I'm still not used to the wings."

Will nodded. "It'll become a natural reaction in time." That was the main reason he called them Mists; their wings were pearly grey, almost translucent. Every Nephilim had them – they became more corporeal as you adjusted. Then they changed colour as a particular path was chosen. Emeralds were researches, sapphire blues the watchers, deep crimson were the guards and many others besides. Glancing down as the grass-covered ground thirty feet below, Will mused that for all the training in balance and skill Nephilim received while alive, it took them a considerable amount of time to find their air-feet.

Will cocked his head to the side. _Here comes trouble._ This afternoon's trouble had fiery gold wings, the only of their kind, and their owner always had a sharp word for Will. A murmur ran through the Mists as they recognized the angel below them. _Lord Raziel_.

Knowing that they had completely lost their focus, Will told them to take a five-minute break. Letting his own black wings fan out, Will descended, landing easily on the grassy terrain. From there, it could have been any field on earth. "Raziel," Will said by way of a greeting. "What can I do for you?" The angel's eyes were empty of expression. The runes along his body seemed to shimmer and move.

"It grows late." Raziel chose to forgo a greeting altogether. He paused, casting his eyes to the green-blue sky. "How goes the training?"

Will followed suit and shrugged. "It goes as it does." He said, watching the Mists float in small groups, talking amongst themselves.

Raziel returned his gaze to Will. "As my most senior apprentice I would hope for a more comprehensive report."

Will bit his tongue to stop himself replying, _after five hundred years of being an apprentice, I'd hope that you trust my opinion._ However, talking back had never gotten him anything aside from additional cleaning duty. Instead, Will looked back up, pushing the ebony hair out of his eyes. That had been an occasional joke between the apprentices – did he dye his wings to match his hair, or his hair to match his wings? Will had the only black wings in heaven. It'd never bothered him, because they were like his dark blue eyes or pale skin. His wings just were.

"Those two," Will said , pointing to a small group of Mists who had their backs to them. "They showed promise with throwing daggers. Those-" His hand moved to indicate a group of five who had mastered sitting down while staying airborne. "-they'd be better off with swords. The others don't lean towards a particular speciality, but we haven't yet been to the archery field."

Raziel nodded. "You are to accompany the Watchers this evening." He said shortly. Will blinked, startled, but Raziel had already turned and walked away. As Will leapt into the air, he grinned. He'd always liked being with the Watchers, almost as much as he loved to fly. "Everyone, back into your groups." He called. To the two he'd singled out, he showed a different technique, one more likely to be used in combat.

_Combat. _Will had asked Raziel, once, why they trained themselves as warriors when they weren't at war with anyone. Raziel had looked at him, strain showing in his expression. "So we are ready when the end comes." Will had gotten nothing more out of him.

In his opinion, the end was still a long way away.

Evening seemed equally far away. Will kept glancing towards the sky, silently chastising it for not changing shade quickly enough from the palest blue announcing morning to the midday turquoise and the deep ocean-blue of midnight. The sky never had any other colour – simply a dozen variations of a blue that kept the Seraphim at their routines.

Eventually, a dark blue painted the sky, illuminated by millions of shining stars. He had been told that each star had been created for a seraphim who had died in the Great War that had seraphim and demons fighting on earth, before the demons had been banished to the lower dimensions. A star for each seraph that died to make the earth they watched over safe. But Will thought that was probably just a story to glorify history. That many seraphim were difficult to comprehend.

Will dismissed his class, and took a moment to collect the daggers still embedded in the targets, returning them to their respective sheaths, stacked in baskets. They would have to request new weapons – these were beginning to wear.

Stretching, Will moved his arms into an arch over his head and, folding his wings, flung himself backwards. Will closed his eyes, feeling the wind whip his hair back and whistle past his ears. His heart raced as he fell, counting time.

_Five… four…three… two-_

Will snapped his eyes and wings open, just a few meters from the ground. Laughing in exuberance, he turned west towards the Watchers.

The watchers' corner wasn't really a corner – more like a sprawling network of rounded mirrors, tall as people, with seraphim perched on glass stools with parchment resting on a worktop, taking down all the losses of Shadowhunters and the demons sent back to their original dimension. The parchments would then be taken to the archivists and used to track the progress of Shadowhunters…

As Will let his wings fan out, he knew he didn't care about tracking the progress. He just wanted to see earth, the weather and the people and their emotions. How they lived their lives always intrigued him – fighting for their lives and for what they believed. Landing by the head watcher, an elderly seraphim with a snowy beard, Will asked where he would be stationed. It was rare enough to have an old Shadowhunter, and rarer still that they would be of good humour. "William, you are at the London Institute. Twelfth row-"

"-fourth mirror to the left. I got it."

The old seraphim grinned. "How long has it been since you were here?"

Will laughed. "Three weeks ago, Institute of Madrid. Raid on a nest of seeker demons." He started walking across the orderly rows of mirror, each one marked with pale silvery runes announcing where the watchers would be observing. The younger watchers eyes tracked the fights with rapt attention and the older carefully took down the losses and gains. Will, technically old, found himself fascinated by the _people._ Sitting on the empty stool in front of the London mirror, Will pressed his hand to the glass, a verification of his purpose. The mirror's surface rippled outwards like a stone thrown in a lake and an image slowly formed. Shadowhunters were dressed in gear, arming themselves. It took several moments for the language to be translated, so Will sat and heard the foreign language and closed his eyes. The words remained indistinguishable, but Will could hear the modulations in their voice – a woman's voice laughed, and the other voices commented wryly. Then gradually the words made sense, like moving closer to the source of a sound and hearing more clearly.

"Henry, we needn't take the entire artillery. It is only a reconnaissance." A young, brunette woman was saying to a ginger man, presumably Henry.

"But Buford-"

"Is just fine." She finished. Her name- Will searched his mind for it. The last time he'd been at this mirror had been well over a year ago. _Charlotte._ That was it. And the pale boy who handed Henry a Seraph blade was James. For some reason, his name was easier to remember among the thousands he'd seen. Will sighed and picked up the quill, tempted to ignore his duty and fight with them, breath for breath and strike for strike. Anything to belong.

Hours later Will was drawn out of watching the London Institute at dinner, recounting the highlights of the day by a hand pressed to his shoulder.

"You were expected at the meeting, William." Raziel said, his voice making Will blink to see the fading dark blue sky illuminated by the gold of Raziel.

"Sorry. The time…ran away from me." Will's eyes strayed back to the mirror where a younger girl – a new Shadowhunter? – was sitting next to James, relief plain on her face. Why hadn't she been with the others? Jem reached over and took her hand, and suddenly Will understood. _He wanted to protect her. _Though what if he had not come back? So many Shadowhunters were lost, and yet the thought of this one's death perturbed him. Maybe Will could've helped in some way, maybe-

"We never interfere." Raziel said, holding up a single hand as though he knew exactly what Will had been thinking. Considering his position, Will wouldn't have been surprised. "That is the eternal rule." Will frowned. "What if they need us?" If Raziel was irritated by Will's questioning he didn't show it. "Our sons and daughters on earth have three tools to call us in times of dire need. To help them otherwise would break our vow to above, and cause nothing but harm." Will thought of the pale Shadowhunter, Jem, unable to properly live, unwilling to do nothing. "But we could help." Raziel shook his head. "We would only destroy. Come away from that, it only distracts you." Will reluctantly tore his eyes away from the mirrored surface. When Raziel ordered something, it was never disobeyed.

Later, for there were few accurate references to time in the ever-blue sky, Will was back at the mirror, having snuck out of his dormitory. He looking at the most fragile boy he had seen, and he had seen much. Years, decades of watching, and none of the Nephilim had ever held his attention this way. James, Jem as they called him. Will smiled sadly. No-one had ever shortened his name. It was all about rank and duty, with no time for friendship. Jem was playing the violin this time, an achingly sad tune that spoke of loss and grief, and most intriguingly, of hope. That was one of the things Will had never tired of seeing. When man went to war, committed unspeakable and unforgivable acts, there was always a tiny ray of hope somewhere, trying to grow, to share its light. Will sat, resting his arms on his legs and watched over London for hours more, with a strange and unfamiliar sense of longing for a different life, for something else he did not know.

Will woke with his head leaning on his arm, disoriented and confused by the palest blue in the sky. He was alone among the transparent desks and discarded quills, and covered his eyes to block out the light.

Then he heard the screaming.

The mirror's surface reverberated with the sound. Tessa had screamed as clockwork creatures attempted to storm the Institute through the sanctuary doors, and Jem had flung himself in front of her. The sun had long since been down in London, and only the moonlight illuminated their metallic weapon and grotesque faces, mockeries of life. Drawing a seraph blade from a sheath, Jem said its name and slashed the glowing light above him, and the closest construct crumpled in on itself. "Tessa," Jem held her arm to pull her attention from the monsters. "Get to the weapons room, tell everyone." When she hesitated, Jem insisted. "Tessa, go!" Tessa ran, skirts flying around her ankles. Jem slashed another clockwork creature and tried to force the doors shut and rune them locked. Stele in one hand and blade in the other, Jem was a fraction too late to stop the next one before it entered and landed a blow on Jem's chest that sent him flying back into the stone, loose chips flying free as Jem slid to the ground, trying to breathe through the coughs wracking his body.

"The Magister wants the shapeshifter. Where is she?" The metallic voice sounded like snakes writhing, the cogs and gears in its throat clicking audibly. Jem attempted to slice through its knee-joints as it towered over him, but the construct moved. "You will never get her, or anyone. Leave this place." The construct did not pause other than to readjust the angle of the blade that was part of its arm.

Will was speaking before he knew what was happening. Old Seraphic words that reached through the mirror, and as the spell became faster the resistance of the mirror's surface decreased. Jem attempted to stand, chest convulsing and hands stained with his own blood. Runes sank through the mirror and became reality in Jem's existence. Blinding gold runes of victory and destruction and protection formed a whirlwind of light that decimated the constructs, leaving Jem surrounded by nothing but pieces of scrap metal. He collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily. "By the angel," he whispered, coughing. "What on earth happened?"

Will couldn't help but laugh. After a few tense moments to ensure there was no further threat, Will kept the mirror trained on them just long enough to see Tessa come hurtling through the doors with a broadsword and Henry in tow.

"James!" She ran to where he was slumped, throwing her arms round him. "You're safe." Taking that as confirmation, Will traced a rune of suspension with his fingertip and the mirrors image flickered and faded back into nothingness until all Will could see was his own reflection.

Slumping in his stool, Will pushed back his hair. "What have I done?" he muttered, the adrenaline of the almost-fight seeping out of his blood. Will had no doubt that there had been a reason he'd saved Jem from what would have almost certainly have been his death. The runes he'd carved into the mirror had come from a place inside that held knowledge he'd never thought of, and if Will had the choice, he'd save Jem's life again a thousand times over. But Raziel had been very clear that seraphim were only ever to observe and record at the mirrors, never intercede. Again, he'd not thought to reveal the reason, only commenting that his training would be used if the event of interference occurred.

Will spent the next several days avoiding Raziel by throwing himself into training the Mists. Their number was lessening as some found their callings, and smaller groups proved more effective when trying to teach them how to fight multiple opponents. Will himself was the one at the centre of the attack from a few Mists while the others watched as he demonstrated how to respond by covering all points of defence. The Mists were hesitant to attack him at first, but then worked well as a team, which was the second point of the exercise. Even that could not distract him from Jem's face as the clockwork creature's arm had swung down. Not terror, nor fear. Just sadness.

A Mist, Johan, landed a precise slash that sliced straight through the ends of his hair. The sight of cold metal anchored him to the present. "That was well done," Will commented, and vaulted over the five or so Mists that were his opponents. "But you should never get too confident." Will tapped Johan on the collarbone with the blunt side of his sword. The Mists laughed. "Form one pair and one group of three. Try the same manoeuvres." Time passed quickly, and all too soon it was the metallic blue of just-reached dark.

Will flew with no direction after the session had ended, just to feel the wind in his wings. _No sun or moon, but stars and wind._ Will often noticed differences between heaven and earth, and they had never seemed more pronounced. _Maybe Raziel won't find out._ The sky had darkened another shade and Will breathed in the night. Freedom was what he craved and just for a moment, when he'd acted for someone else, he had it.

"William, we must speak." Raziel said from behind him. Who had he been fooling? Of course Raziel would know. He _always_ knew.

"I don't want to hear it."

"What you want is why we need to talk."

Will turned to Raziel, watching his expressionless face with exhaustion. "I saved his life, Raziel. That's all. Just one life."

Raziel blinked. "Do you regret it?" His voice attempted to reach neutrality but stopped short and revealed the anger beneath it. Will was shocked, both at the question and the display of emotion.

"No. How could I? People need him." Will's thoughts strayed to Tessa and the others.

"Would you do it again?" Raziel questioned, again the anger seeping like an undercurrent into his voice.

Will searched for the truth, and found it readily. It was not his place, but it was wrong that the seraphim only watched. "For him? Yes."

Raziel's fists clenched, eyes tightening. "I cannot condone this." He said.

Will was all but raising his own fists in defence. "He would have died!" A world without that hope, that life, would be unacceptable. Why couldn't Raziel, for all his status and glory, see that?

Raziel brushed away the protest. "It would have been his time. It is the right course of action." He turned to leave, slowed only by the currents of air and the exclamation of Will. "No! It's not right."

Raziel stopped, and turned slowly to face the impassioned boy standing before him. He was a sight, wings raised in readiness for a fight, eyes burning with emotion. That was partly why Raziel regretted his next actions, more so than he would have for any other seraphim, bar the consequences of one other's actions.

"William, you are not allowed to remain in this place that you have broken the laws."

Will froze, his expression still like the surface of a lake. "What do you mean?"

Raziel seemed to hesitate, then banish the thought. "You are to be exiled to earth, for it is where your loyalty lies. For the decision of whose life is worth ending and whose is worth saving you will be cursed."

Will's eyes turned from a still lake to a tumultuous ocean, fathomless and untameable. Inside, all he felt was panic. "No, Raziel, please-"

"You claim your actions stemmed from love of mankind, and so love is the root of your disobedience. Any who love you will perish, as the boy-Shadowhunter should have done. As you may."

Will gripped the hilt of his sword. "Raziel, are you insane?! This is my home, it always has been. Even if you were to banish me, why would you condemn others?"

For the first time, Raziel's cold demeanour cracked fully and the golden runes on his body flared with the anger. "Do you think I am pleased with this? It will begin with you. Anyone who defies a direct order cannot be allowed to remain. It is the law."

Will's eyes widened. "_Sed lex dura lex."_ He breathed. "No. Please."

Raziel gripped Will's upper arms with the strength of iron. He stepped forward and suddenly they were standing on the edge of a high precipice, overlooking an expanse of black, scattered with a thousand flickering points of light. Above them, the ever-blue sky had turned a bright scarlet, reminiscent of nothing so much as a spray of blood. Will's wings unconsciously expanded, helping him keep his balance in the wave of unsteadiness that washed over him. Sickened by the void in front of him, Will dropped to his knees, trying to breathe. It was more than unsteadiness, as though Raziel's power had become material and choked him. "What are...you doing to me?"

His very soul seemed to shudder as he grew weaker.

"I am stripping you of your power. You will no longer be seraphim, but a man, a boy, just like the Shadowhunter you...saved."

"Bloody hell, Raziel," Will gasped, "Don't you need to run this by someone?"

Raziel answered by raising a hand, and clenching it into a fist.

Will cried out as his wings caught on fire, again and again as the flames bit into the feathers and bone, burning his skin until the pain was unbearable. Like a torch he cast shadows around him, wherever he tried to turn to put the fire out, but there was no end – there was nothing to stop the flames destroying him. He curled his arms around himself, desperate for the fire to speed up and kill him, to stop the terrible feeling that wrenched his whole being apart. Raziel wasn't just taking his wings; he was taking part of his soul. Will screamed for release, sometime words and sometimes just noise until when he was barely conscious, Raziel pushed him over the edge of the cliff into the dark abyss.

Will felt cold. Rain poured from the sky as though heaven were mourning for him, the water cooling on his burning back, from where Raziel had burned his wings. Each breath was a stab of pain and seemed not to be worth the effort. The cobbled ground he lay on was uneven, and Will lifted his head only to avoid the silt that ran in rivulets between the stones. His eyes narrowed against the silvery curtains of rain that pelted of the ground like tiny knives. Suddenly a shape darted through the downpour, wearing a pale coat that seemed to fade in and out of focus. With a jolt of recognition that pain and disorientation dulled down to a sickening lurch, Will recognized James. Will reached out his arm, not caring that it made the burns on his back bleed. "Jem!" He called out, his voice hoarse. The shape paused, and Will tried again. "Please, James, help me." Without warning Jem was standing in front of him, skin marked with black runes and soaking wet, hair covering his pale eyes. "You can see me?" He asked expression troubled.

Will nodded, and regretted it when pain lanced through his head. He felt as though he were drowning, trying to breathe where no air was left.

"Take it easy," Jem said, kneeling by him, "Don't move suddenly."

The pain had diminished slightly, but it had left a searing warning clear in his mind. _Tell no one._ His punishment was to be shouldered alone. It had to be that way. Will tried to make his eyes focus, but the world was a blur. The last thing he remembered before sinking into an empty darkness were strong arms carrying him through the lonely, winding streets of London.

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**How was that for a first chapter? Thank you for reading and the update will be in a week's time. Please review to let me know what you think :-)**


	2. Making a Herondale

Will dreamed he was in heaven looking over everything. It was strange. He felt no wings on his back yet he was still flying. Raziel was standing over the mirror Will had spent so many hours watching. He looked…sad? Will saw sorrow in his eyes and in the tightness of his body. What was he looking at, to provoke such emotion from the soldier who had never been anything else?

With that thought, he was behind Raziel's shoulder, leaning over to see the mirror. The head of the London Institute – Charlotte Branwell – and Jem were in the infirmary, standing over an indistinct shape. With a mild curiosity he saw the shape was someone lying in the bed. The boy was resting on his front, a pale sheet pulled down to reveal a bandaged upper back, spots of red seeping through the fabric.

"Jem, why did you bring him here? If he is a mundane-"

"He would have already died. He saw me, Charlotte. I was glamoured and he called out to me. I don't think a mundane hospital could have helped him in time anyway."

Charlotte sighed. "I just worry. He looks like he's been through so much, and to have him here while on a wild goose chase after Mortmain…"

"Try not to fret," Jem said soothingly. "He may just have been in an accident, and have a perfectly safe home to return to." Jem reached out a hand and smoothed some hair from the boy's pale face.

The boy – It was his own face. As soon as the revelation hit, Will felt himself falling.

His eyes snapped open and Will pushed his arms out under him to try to stop his fall, but a sharp shock of pain tearing through his back stopped him.

A figure rushed to his side. Blinking through the haze of pain, Will recognized Jem.

"Easy, don't move yet."

Will breathed slowly, trying to sit up without jostling his back. Every inch of him ached as though he'd been fighting for days without rest. As though he'd fallen from the sky.

"Jem is quite right." A quiet voice said, and for the first time, Will noticed Charlotte standing beside Jem. "You've barely begun to heal." Just then, with her hands clasped anxiously in front of her and worry clear in her eyes, she reminded Will of nothing so much as a mother bird taking care of her chicks. Will let Jem support his weight as he sat up, leaning lightly into the pillow. "I'm fine." He said reassuringly, smiling at Charlotte and Jem's twin looks of scepticism.

Jem perched on the end of his bed, and Will noticed a fading Iratze on his collarbone. Had he been fighting recently?

Will sighed inwardly. The earth-bound Nephilim actually fought their enemies rather than watching from a distance like he had. Still, he wondered how on earth Raziel expected him to explain his presence there. Then again, perhaps that was the key.

"What is your name?" Charlotte said.

"William." He said, finding his voice at last.

Charlotte nodded. "Who are you?" she asked, not unkindly.

_I am a Seraphim. I watched over Shadowhunters. I was senior apprentice to Raziel before he threw me from heaven. _

"I don't know." At Charlotte's bemused look, Will added, "I mean, I can't remember. My past… is all a blank space."

Charlotte's look of worry deepened. "Can you recall anything? Perhaps you are from a Shadowhunter family?"

Will was about to shake his head when he paused. It was obvious that the last thing this Institute needed was an amnesiac that was only a burden, particularly in his injured state. He didn't know where he would go, but he couldn't stay longer than it took to heal. Alive, he could help in some small way, but dead… Perhaps that had been Raziel's plan. To let him die at the hands of the biting London cold, unable to seek help for fear of leading that person to their death. Will sighed bitterly to himself. Well, he had certainly spoiled that plan.

But maybe he wouldn't be disregarded as useless just yet. "I do not know if this means anything, but I have had it as far as I can remember." As he spoke, Will loosened the bandages covering his torso, flinching as it scraped his wound to reveal the marked skin over his heart. A Rune, one of Raziel's own and drawn by his hand, was given to each apprentice as they were sworn into service. The scar was raised slightly, a five-pointed star with each line wrapped in curving lines like vines, and in the centre of the star was a swirling mark that echoed the shape of half-folded wings.

It stood for loyalty, pride and strength. It stood for duty.

To say Jem and Charlotte looked shocked was a great understatement. _Ah._ They would think him a Shadowhunter, but if the rune wasn't in the Gray Book, what then? Will knew that Raziel had shared only a fraction of his knowledge, so many centuries ago with Jonathan Shadowhunter, though to this day Raziel had refused to tell him _why_. Suddenly Will felt pain blossom in his head, turning the world grey and red and black. Sound faded into nothing as he lost consciousness.

_Tell no one. _

A tear slipped down his cheek as the threatening darkness claimed him once again.

The next few weeks were filled with sharp pain and regret. Whenever he was alone, Will read, partly out of curiosity and partly to forget. After a few days he was strong enough to walk to the library and back, and it became a regular routine as he made his way through book after book, both fiction and almanacs on demons. Will was treated well, and spent hours talking with Jem, sometimes with Tessa sometimes just the two of them. Everything Will had seen in the mirrors was true, yet they had missed the pure essence of the people. Tessa was kinder than the brief glimpses of her had suggested, quick to question and had a seldom-heard but uplifting laugh. Jem was – like a brother. When Will would forget where he was and long for open skies, Jem would pull him back with a soft word or look. It was one such occurrence when Charlotte led a Silent Brother into the room.

Jem stood. "Is something wrong?" He asked worriedly, while Will fought a brief urge to pick the lock on the window and try to fly.

Charlotte waved her hands reassuringly. "No, no. Brother Zachariah agreed to help with trying to retrieve Will's lost memories."

Will tensed. The Silent Brothers were invaluable healers and knew the mind like it had been drawn on a map. However, they would very quickly learn that he had something to hide, and nothing hiding it. "Thank you," He said aloud, "But I'm afraid I may not be much help."

_That is my purpose here, William. _Zachariah's mind brushed his, barely above a whisper.

He indicated to the others, and Will felt his contact had been extended to reach them. _When something is found, you will be informed. _

Charlotte nodded, her tired eyes relaxing slightly. "Come along, Jem, Tessa. Henry said he has a new device to show us."

Tessa left, nodding to Will, giving Zachariah a wide berth, but Jem hesitated. "I just want you to know that whatever happened, whatever will happen, you will always have a place here." Jem placed a hand on his shoulder briefly, and left.

It was just him and Zachariah.

Will didn't know where to begin. Apparently the Silent Brother had no such trouble.

_Shall we start? _

Will nodded slowly, and added, "Brother Zachariah, can I have your word that whatever you find, you will not tell the others?

Zachariah seemed to consider it. _If what caused the memory damage could harm the Clave, I am honour bound-_

"No, I mean about me. About my… personal history."

Another long pause._ Very well. You have my word on the Angel. _

Will blew out a relived breath. "Thank you." Zachariah sat soundlessly on his bed, and raised his thin hands to rest on Will's temples. The sandy sleeve of his robe slid back, revealing runed arms – insight, understanding-

_Close your eyes. Lose focus. I will find the rest. _

Will obeyed. Behind his closed eyes, he saw everything over again, everything that Zachariah saw. His fall. Training with the Mists. Further back – being trained himself, meeting Raziel for the first time. Back and back with greater speed until suddenly the reel of memories stopped like string snapping. Will opened his eyes, and stared into the scarred face of a Silent Brother in shock.

Zachariah stood only to drop to one knee, hand fisted over heart in the position of deference and fealty. _William, Senior Apprentice of Raziel… _

"Please, stand." Will urged, more out of the pain of abandonment than because of his embarrassment. Zachariah did so, and clasped his hands together. _Now I understand why you asked for the oath. I will not break it, but how… _

"If you do, my life is forfeit. You saw yourself how Raziel forbade me – Well, I have told you nothing. Though now you know how it came to pass," Will said. "There is no way I know to return save through the unfeeling Master himself."

_Then whilst you stay here, you will need an identity._ Zachariah paused. _You will stay here?_

Will spread his hands. "I have nowhere else to go." Looking away, Will contemplated belonging, just for a moment.

_Herondale. _

"I beg your pardon?"

_The Herodales left the Clave some time ago. They refuse contact with our world, and your past will need no more reference than you wanted to leave them. One of their children came here not long ago, but the Clave requested her presence in Alicante, so your story will not be challenged for the time being. _

"Surely they would want to know why?" Will felt the strangest sensation in his mind, a mental shrug of sorts. _It is your choice. There is no existing reason I can draw on. _

"Then I left because I wanted it." Will decided, since it was as far from the real truth as he could get.

_There is one more thing to attend to. _Zachariah seemed as still as the earth, and as likely to change as he explained. _There is a block on your mind, one so powerful it could only have been made by – _here, he paused, and a smile crept into his words_ – the unfeeling Master. I do not know the purpose of it, only that it is very complex. _

Will stood slowly, to give his body something to do while his mind raced. "Can you remove it without letting anyone know?"

_I could not do it alone. Even the entirety of my brethren may not be strong enough. I can, however, look into the matter. _

Will looked at the stone arches in the wall, the stain-glass windows depicting figures in blue and red. _I probably knew them, _Will thought. To Brother Zachariah, he said "Then that will have to do. My thanks, for all of this."

Zachariah clasped Will's hand, skin dry as parchment. _Consider it my duty. Although, _again, Will felt a smile in his voice_, if you would come to the Silent City and record some of what you know…_

Will did smile. "All that I am capable of sharing, I will."

The Silent Brother nodded to him, and left, making no more sound than the autumn wind outside.

"Come along, Herondale." Jem grinningly threw an armful of black material on his lap. "Time you were involved in training."

Will set the book he was reading – _Vathek_ – on the table and grinned back. Hundreds of years training other people had mostly perfected every fighting skill he had. This was going to be fun.

"I'll be there shortly." And there he was, walking into the training room like it was the one place in the Institute he felt at home. Will winked at Sophie and smiled at Tessa, who gave him a look that very clearly said _you should know better._

The training room was high with beams altered for balance exercises, and there were dozens of markings on the floor and walls indicating targets or starting positions.

"So you're the mystery Shadowhunter who fell from the sky." The drawling voice emanated from a blond boy sitting on a bench who looked around the same age as Jem with green eyes and an ever-more apparent manner problem. Still, it wouldn't do to give Charlotte's Institute a bad reputation, so he merely raised an eyebrow. "Will Herondale," He said, stumbling imperceptibly over the lie.

"Gabriel Lightwood." The boy introduced himself, and suddenly Will realised that he had seen him before. His father had been stirring up trouble recently, and this made Will no more inclined to like him. Jem tapped Will on the shoulder, handing him a thin but long sword, marked with Runes of Accuracy and Strength. "Does it feel familiar?"

Will turned his wrist so the sword twisted in a full circle around his hand. "Yes."

Jem nodded, pleased. "Good. That means we can test how strong you are in combat and go from there. Gabriel-" Jem waved the sullen boy over, "If you wouldn't mind sparring with Will?"

Gabriel nodded his assent as Jem turned to Sophie and Tessa, both dressed in gear. Will blinked. He knew almost every action they'd had to do with the Institute – Sophie's actions to protect Tessa and Jessamine, Tessa's bravery at the vampire soiree and their work to find and apprehend Mortmain. He so easily found himself forgetting they were untrained and-

"Dead." Will blinked again, this time in annoyance. Gabriel had taken advantage of his daze and slid his blunted training sword against Will's throat.

"Not yet." Will drew back several paces and pulled the sword up in a salute, then held it diagonally in front of him, waiting for a sign that Gabriel would move. It was a shift of weight from the back leg to the front. A high sweep to the head. Will smiled to himself. _Really, the same move twice? _Gabriel would either be expecting him to block or return with a blow of his own, but that would have been too simple. Will stepped to the side, ensuring Gabriel was leaning to far forward before he used the hilt of his sword to knock Gabriel's out of his hand. Will cocked his head to the side. "Dead."

Gabriel's ears flushed red. "That was beginner's luck."

Will laughed at that. Years he'd spent, training himself just as hard as he pushed the Mists. "Then let's go again." Gabriel retrieved his sword and they returned to their ready positions. This time, it wouldn't be as easy. He was on guard, and expecting resistance. Will allowed the rest of the room to fade out. The soft murmur of Jem training Tessa and Sophie, the sun shining through the high windows, everything but the thrum of his body and where Gabriel's sword was going to be. Will breathed in, making the first move by facing the flat of his blade towards Gabriel's ankles, to disarm him in a different way. Gabriel saw him coming though, and leapt over his sword, swinging one leg round, catching Will on his right side. _Very well. _Growling, Will began a series of blows on after the other, forcing Gabriel to shift position each time. His eyes saw only the cold metal and its web of movements. _There._ Regardless of what way Gabriel parried, there was always the smallest opening of his wrist that made his grip of the sword weaker. Will's body knew what to do before his mind registered it. Leaning on the balls of his feet as he sprung, Will used his sword to exploit that opening, tearing the sword out of Gabriel's grasp. The motion was only half complete: Will used the momentum to knock Gabriel off balance. Will landed heavily on the floor, but bruised knees were worth the look of utter surprise on Gabriel's face as he stared at the ceiling, flat on his back with Will's sword resting on his throat. He was going to make a remark, and then changed his mind. The situation very much spoke for itself. Will did however, stay just a moment longer until Gabriel's eyes narrowed, then he stood, reluctantly offering his hand. Gabriel ignored it and stood by himself.

The sound of a throat clearing alerted Will to the fact that they had acquired an audience. Jem had a proud smile on his face, while Tessa seemed moderately surprised. Sophie looked at him with barely hidden satisfaction. It dawned in him that perhaps she liked Gabriel even less than she liked him. "That was well done." Jem said, and Will shrugged, though unduly pleased. "I suppose whoever trained me did so well."

"Come then, we can train-"

"I'll return to what Father requested of me." Gabriel said stiffly, walking over to Tessa and Sophie. Will couldn't help smiling. He would've much rather sparred with Jem anyway. Several times they fought and Will laughed at the amount of times they ended in in a stalemate simply because they seemed to know what the other would do. "Truce!" Jem called out. The girls had long since stopped training and sat on the bench watching them, Gabriel already having left. "By the Angel, Will, whoever trained you certainly knew what they were doing." Jem's warm smile failed to chase away the image of who had spent hours, days training him.

_Raziel, was this why you exiled me? To help them?_ Aloud, he just nodded and put away both his and Jem's sword. "I'm going to get some air." Will said, suddenly feeling closed in. He didn't see Jem look at him worriedly, nor Tessa take his hand.

Will tossed and turned in his bed, feeling the sheets on his skin and the pale light passing through the curtains. He suddenly sat up and threw of the covers in disgust. It was so...restricting. The walls and ceiling – in heaven, they had been few ceilings, and those that had been made of crystal that let the natural light wash over the people inside.

Gritting his teeth he kicked away the last of the covers and pulled on a jacket and boots. The bricks and mortar screamed with the blood of Shadowhunters and Will couldn't stand it. He soundlessly opened the door and slipped through it. Padding down the corridor he followed his senses more than memory to find his way out. Not the front entrance, because that felt wrong – claiming to be one of them – but out the deconsecrated sanctuary, designed for those whose souls could not enter holy ground. Morbidly, Will found he felt more comfortable with the idea of being soulless than of his soul being maimed to the point of being unrecognizable. So deep was his thought that only the cold nipping at his bare fingers brought him back. Will blinked, and realized if he stayed in one place much longer, he would attract attention. "I could get used to this." Will muttered under his breath. The stars overhead shined bright like someone had scattered the sky with drops of silver, hidden only briefly by the odd lit streetlamp. Besides, this would give him a chance to both escape from the constraints of the Institute and to explore his surroundings. Only the universe knew what would happen, but Will would not be a bystander. His actions led to his exile, and maybe his actions would lead to a kind of peace here. Suddenly a scream pierced the air, and Will ran to the mouth of the alley where the sound had originated. Three times his height, blue and scaled was a demon, trying to choke a young girl. While his blood boiled, Will reached inside his jacked for several throwing daggers, allowing a small, cold smile to change his face. _Target practice. _

Jem was sat on a chair in his room, trying not to look at the drug on his table. For all his claims of love improving his health, true though they were, the onslaught of Mortmain's creatures had weakened him. Jem stared out the window, looking for something to hold his focus, take it away from the dull pounding of his head and blood. A knock on the door gave Jem a reason to turn his back on the silver box and its cursed but tempting contents.

Jem opened the door to the very unexpected but not unwelcome sight of Will, dishevelled and dark-eyed. He stood aside to let Will in. "What can I do for you?" As Will raised his head, his clothes shifted and Jem's eyes widened in concern. "Will, is that _blood_? Are you hurt?"

Will shook his head distractedly. "No, it's not mine. A stray demon's." Will started pacing, then stopped, seating himself on the end of Jem's bed. "I have something to ask of you. A request."

Jem returned to his seat, an entirely different kind of situation worrying at his peace of mind.

"James, you have saved my life not just once, in the rain, but a thousand times after. You saw me retreating into a dark place and you pulled me out."  
"Will, any person would have done that. It is not worth recognition." Jem tried to lessen Will's clear agitation.

Will shook his head. "No, you have been like a brother to me, a stranger, and I want the chance to prove that I can be more than just someone who takes." He drew in a deep breath. "Will you let me be your Parabatai?"

Jem's thoughts ran away with him. "You need not shackle yourself to me out of duty, Will. Neither of us would want that."

Will sighed, furious energy gone. "I have a debt to pay and I would give my life for yours. Besides," Will said, resting his elbows on his knees, "you will be eighteen soon and unless you are to be contracted to someone else-"

Jem bit his lip. "William, listen. You have noticed my illness, have you not?" Jem watched as his eyes flickered to the box of Yin Fen and returned to meet his own. "I do not know how long I have left." Even as he said it calmly, his heart felt like a hummingbird's wings in a storm. "But I know for sure my life is not worth enough to be the person a Parabatai should be."

Will looked at him through clouded eyes and suddenly Jem felt as though Will was centuries older than he said, though of course that was impossible. Wasn't it?

"We are all to die one day, James, and I would rather give my life for you than any other. Please, let me prove it."

Jem closed his eyes. He knew the benefits of being paired with a Parabatai – increased strength, heightened awareness in combat to name a few. However, Will had a fire burning in him that was fuelled by something dark, and kept alive by the unwillingness to give up altogether. He recognized it from his own heart before he'd made his home here in London. Jem didn't want to restrict Will's life – it would be the worst kind of loyalty. Opening his eyes, he said "Will, I cannot."

The faint hope on Will's face was quickly replaced by despair, then for a moment he went so still, Jem feared for his health. Nothing moved, not his chest with breath nor his eyes.

Will struggled with his thoughts. If he had already leapt off the cliff, was there any more harm to be done by spreading his arms and trying to slow the descent? "Your only objection," Will said slowly thinking as he spoke, even as the words tasted bitter. "Is that I will outlive you, and you see this as unfair?"

Jem nodded, sadness creeping in to his expression like ink in water.

"Then the answer would change if I told you that I knew a way to bind us in all the ways Parabatai are, but with the ability to have another if one of us were to perish." Will watched as Jem thought briefly, flickers of hope and disbelief on his face. "It's impossible. No such rune has been seen."

"What if I knew it though? Would your answer change?" Will prayed for belief to win over logic, and Jem simply said "Yes, if it were possible."

Such a rune did exist, under the rule of Raziel. It had been developed to overcome the weaknesses of the first Parabatai rune, though it was then kept hidden because the weaknesses were part of what made the bond so strong. "I can show you. Do you have paper?"

Jem looked at him for a long moment before tugging open a drawer and handing will paper and a pencil. _Raziel, if you are watching, kindly don't try to kill me a second time for this. _Will sent a silent prayer to the heavens as he drew. It was very similar to the original rune, but less geometric and more flowing, the symmetrical lines curving diagonally across the paper before pointing to the centre.

Jem stared at it. "You are full of mysteries, Will." He murmured. "I have not seen this rune before, nor the one over your heart, but something inside…tells me it is as you say. I cannot place it, but it _feels _right. " Jem let out a low laugh. "Perhaps I am the most foolish Shadowhunter who ever lived, but yes, William. I agree to be your Parabatai."

Will grinned, the joy in him such as it had not been since the last time Raziel praised him, which was a _very_ long time ago.

"How does your Parabatai ceremony work?" Jem asked, a subdued smile on his own lips answering Will's exuberance.

"It doesn't require the blessing of anyone but the two who wish to make the pact. The rite is-" Will paused. He only knew it in his native tongue, though since he understood this language, perhaps it would translate at least roughly. "Not very complex." All the same, he wrote it out on the same sheet as the rune, trusting Jem's own rune of memory to help.

Jem blinked in alarm. "We're doing it now?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "No time like the present." Drawing his stele, Will motioned to Jem. "Could you push the bed back? I think we'll need a little more room."

While Jem was occupied, Will whispered over the Stele in Seraphic, to give it the true properties of a Seraphim's flesh and bone. He could no longer create runes with his bare hands – which would certainly have raised some questions – but he still retained the language. Finished, he drew three interlocking circles, each about four paces across. Over each one he whispered another word and the circles immediately lit up with a white-gold flame that emanated no heat.

Jem stood behind the farthest circle, the firelight illuminating his still expression. Will faltered. "Have you changed your mind?"

Jem shook his head. "No. I only hope we have the blessing of the Angel at least." Will tried not to laugh. "Not even he can prevent this." Will stood, stepping over into the bottom left circle. The fire flared up to waist height, flashing blue and casting the room in shadow. "You do the same." He instructed, and Jem did, the fire flaring gold instead of blue. Turning so they faced each other, Will began the ceremony. "What God has bound let no man break." Will reached through the flickering flame and clasped Jem's pale hand in his. "What God has bound let no man break." Jem repeated, raising his gaze to meet Will's. Will's breath caught in his throat as he saw a strength more unyielding than steel, and a courage that went soul-deep. A Seraphim like that entered heaven less than once a century.

They spoke in tandem, now, and with each word a wind picked up, tossing their hair and clothes in all directions, the flames growing upwards like living vines.

"Our two lives, separate 'till now, will be joined. Dreams and fears will not be taken alone."

The two fires began winding round their joined hands, and moving up their arms, seeping into their skin. "Blood for blood. Breath for breath. Soul for soul."

The wind whipped the flames into a frenzy, and they had to raise their voices to be heard above it. "Our strength eternally renewed, we run and are not weary, fight and are not weakened. That which is bound together now-"

Will stepped into the third circle first, followed by Jem in the same heartbeat. "No power in the sky above or in the earth below, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate." The third circle created a white flame that spiraled around them, cutting them off from the outside world. Will felt a release in his heart and soul, mirrored in Jem's eyes. The final words were a prayer and a statement. "Past death and life, bound. We are one, let nothing break us!" Their interlocked hands were little more than a fragile barrier as the final flame inscribed the Parabatai rune on the right side of each Shadowhunter's chest, where they could feel their hearts beat with the same time. When the final line was drawn, the fires all went out, like a scarlet string being untied and fluttering down.

The wind slowed, stopping as Will and Jem stared at their clasped hands. "It is done."

They released each other and grinned. "Well, how does it feel?" Jem asked Will, hand resting lightly over his own newly-made mark.

Will breathed in, air tasting purer. "It feels like freedom."

* * *

**I really am glad Will isn't so alone anymore, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter =) What did you think of it? Any reviews are much appreciated.** **Also, if I know people like this, I'll update faster :)**


	3. Into the lion's den

**Just a quick note – I wrote this fanfic before Clockwork Princess was released, so any similarities are pure coincidence, especially since I still haven't read it yet =) **

"Remind me why I'm here again." Will tugged at his tight collar, trying to breathe properly. Jem caught Will's sleeve and returned it to his side. "Because you're part of this Institute, and that involves New Year's." Will gave up the fight with his collar with bad grace and rested his elbows on the banister in front of them. Beneath the balcony where Will and Jem stood, there were several dozen people in all manner of dress – Shadowhunters from nearby Institutes for the party. The twelve-armed chandelier lit the room at eye level while below miniature fireworks burst blue and gold over people's heads. Will had spent most of that week negotiating with Magnus, the most sparkly Downworlder he had ever laid eyes on, to organise it. Blinking against the swirl of colours, Will said "I suppose we ought to go down?"

Jem smiled, clearly about to laugh. "That is the accepted action. Besides," He said, turning towards the grand staircase, "Everyone will be wondering where we've gotten to."

Will followed, giving one last tug at his collar. He'd never been dressed in such formal wear. It had been robes or nothing. At least, that was what he had said to Raziel. _I'm glad there are no angels flying around to keep the fireworks company._ The thought sent a small twinge through his heart, but not more than that. The musicians, Shadowhunters who had talents in that direction, had struck up a new tune as Will caught up with Jem halfway down the stairs. Will held out his arm to Jem and tried a charming grin on for size. "May I have this dance?"

Jem did laugh, but shook his head. "Maybe next time." Jem looked past Will and his smile softened. "I think there's someone else who might have been waiting for me."

Will turned and for one of the few times in his life was speechless. Tessa stood behind him, wearing a forest-green dress with wide half-sleeves, brunette hair twisted back to frame her shy smile. She unconsciously put her hand to a jade pendant resting above the curious oddity of a clockwork angel. "I wasn't sure if I could survive another discussion on the benefits of malphas venom." Tessa said, relieved. Jem held out his arm to her while Will's senses were still scattered in the ether.

"I'm sorry we left you to the masses." He replied easily as Tessa slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

Tessa looked at Will, another smile lighting up the room more effectively than the firework that had exploded just over their heads. "I'm glad you've healed, Will."

"Nothing but scratches," Will said, finding his voice at last. Why did she have such an effect on him?

"Shall we dance? I wouldn't want to leave you to be leading me." Jem said to Tessa, and she flushed lightly.

Will noticed. "Why's this? Is there some occasion you have to practice for?" Will asked jokingly, and his eyes widened in alarm as no-one answered, leaving a silence broken only by the orchestra.

"We-that is…Tessa and I are engaged." Jem said, the purest happiness Will had seen on his face. It was the kind of glowing peace that people only hoped of having. Then the words sunk in. "Engaged?" Will parroted, a kind of shock sinking in. "Ah, I should say congratulations," He added, the looks of curiosity on their faces alerting him to the tone of his voice.

Tessa played with the sleeve of her dress. "Thank you." Suddenly something caught Will's attention out of the corner of his eye. "Please excuse me, I have to attend to something." Will left them smiling at each other, in their own fragile world.

He hoped it wouldn't shatter. A Shadowhunter and a potential Warlock… Will shook his head. _No. It's Jem and Tessa. _It had been three months since he'd fallen into their lives, and Will would have done anything to protect them. So why did he feel so alone?

Will walked around the edge of the room, making his way to Magnus, who had been very subtly flagging him down by making the fireworks overhead form sparkly black and blue arrows pointing to the opposite side of the room. It took a few minutes of negotiating his way past smiling Shadowhunters with drinks in their hands and dancers on the floor, but eventually he found Magnus, looking flamboyant in ruffles and red velvet. "How can I help you?" Will said, leaning on the wall to watch the dancers.

Magnus clicked his fingers and a tall cocktail glass appeared. "I have news that would interest Charlotte, but she is otherwise engaged-" Will inadvertently flinched at the word as Magnus motioned to where Charlotte and Henry were dancing. "-So I thought that you would be able to convey the news."

The crowd shifted and Will saw Jem spinning Tessa under his arm, and they were once again blocked from his view. "If this is about the ice sculptures of the llamas I've already told them that the offer was gracefully declined-"

"It's about Mortmain."

Will stopped talking. He knew everything about their investigation, everything down to the losses this Institute had sustained trying to stop him. "As a New Year's gift, would you kindly tell me his body has been found dead and will no longer trouble us?"

"My apologies." Magnus's voice was sombre. "We have, however, found a hide-away of his. It's not far away – the outskirts of London. I thought perhaps he had stored plans there, or some such information."

Will sighed. "Thank you for telling me. But- can we wait to tell the others? They don't get many careless moments." He could have been speaking of millions of people, yet was very acutely aware of the ones in this room. "I'll tell them first thing in the morning."

Will felt an odd poke in his side and laughed as it tickled. "What on earth was that for?" Will asked Magnus, who had a mischievous expression and glittering fingertips. "I haven't seen you smile properly once, and I was curious."

Will laughed again. "There are more normal ways to get a smile."

Magnus winked, turning to refill his glass. "Yes, but none of them are quite as fun. Be happy, Shadowhunter. _Carpe Diem_."

_Seize the day. _

Shaking his head, Will spied a side door and quietly snuck out into an empty corridor. It wasn't his place there. Not yet.

Will stood outside Tessa's room the next morning, about to knock. He'd already gathered everyone else to discuss the actions against Mortmain. She was the only one left. Resting his head on the door, Will hesitated. When she was around, he couldn't help but be happy, though every time she looked at Jem, Will knew he shouldn't feel the way he did. Like he wanted to be close to her. A meowing alerted Will to his procrastination. "Hello Church." Will bent to scratch the cat under its chin, quickly moving his fingers out of the as Church tried to bite him.

_Enough._ Will let his hand drop on the door but it opened before he had the chance to knock.

"Oh!" Tessa stopped in surprise, a foot away from him. Will tried to step back but Church had wound his way between his ankles, and all the angelic grace in the world didn't stop Will from falling flat on the floor.

As he blinked at the ornate ceiling, Will heard stifled laughing.

"Oh, Will." Tessa laughed behind her hand, cheeks flushing. "You've made an enemy out of Church." Tessa reached out her hand to pull him up, still smiling. Will snuck a look around to make sure Church wouldn't sabotage his attempt to get up. Will took the proffered hand and tried to act normal. "There's a meeting in the drawing room. Shall we?"

Tessa reached behind her to close the door. "What is it about?"

Will slowed his stride to be next to her. "Mortmain," He said, pausing at her intake of breath. "We have a location for him. This might all be over soon."

Tessa was silent as they descended the corridor to the room where Will could hear hushed voices talking. "I hope so."

Will smiled lopsidedly. "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." That earned him the smallest lightning of her eyes. Will pushed open the doors and was on the receiving end of six pairs of eyes. Henry, Charlotte, Jem, Sophie and Cyril he was expecting around the circular table. Magnus dressed in bright magnolia, he was not. Fluttering his bejewelled fingers in a greeting, Magnus said "I was hardly going to be left out of this party. That aside, I didn't give you the exact location of the base. You poor souls might have been wondering around for days."

Will raised a single eyebrow at his theatrics. "Very well." Turning to the others who now had Tessa among them, Will said "I've called this meeting because Magnus came forwards with a location for Mortmain. Not like the mansion in Chiswick, but an actual base where he creates the clockwork monsters." Will took a seat, motioning for Magnus to continue.

Magnus straightened. "I can arrange for a portal there, but I would recommend going by more mundane means. There are almost certainly sensor spells there. It is an underground complex, with the entrance _here_." Magnus pulled out a thin piece of paper with a hand-drawn map marking the surface. As Magnus talked through the logistics, Will contemplated something that had been on his mind for quite a while.

"The question is when to go?" Charlotte posed the question, folding her hands flat on the table. "There is no doubt that we must, but when?"

Magnus leaned back in his chair, head tilted thoughtfully. "I would say as soon as you are fully prepared. Mortmain is no friend to Downworlders, particularly the clans of the Children of the Moon, and I do not think I would be wrong in saying you may earn the gratitude of many of us if you succeed."

Will's eyes widened in surprise. So many Shadowhunters ascended to heaven having been killed in a fight against Downworlders who aligned themselves with full-blooded demons. Less now, but a hundred years ago or so it had been commonplace. A shadow covered them as a cloud blocked the weak winter sunlight and Jem leaned forward. "Should we inform the Clave? I am not sure we can handle this by ourselves."

Henry looked unusually serious as he shook his head. "Though Benedict Lightwood has withdrawn his challenge-" He shared a smile with Charlotte and Will vaguely remembered reading something about demon pox from the watcher's book. "-but the Clave is still indisposed to us after what happened with De Quincy…. and Jessamine."

"So we do this ourselves." Charlotte said, steel in her voice and eyes. "Magnus, will you stand with us?"

Magnus shrugged, apparently careless, but Will could see him thinking it over. Will knew he had helped the Clave several times before, but there were always risks. "I can give you spells, but I will not be present in the venture itself."

"I'm coming." Suddenly Tessa spoke up, and all heads swivelled towards her. "I- I mean, I'd like to come." She looked up and Will saw determination on her face. "If Mortmain is killed, then I will be glad, but he will take the secret of who, or what, I am with him to the grave. I was _created _for some purpose and I-" Tessa cut herself off, drawing a deep breath, and Will saw Jem look at her with concern. "I have been trained, and I want to fight."

To his surprise, it was Will who voiced Jem's thoughts. "Tessa, your sentiment is admirable, but if you were to be hurt-" Will stuttered over what he wanted to say, which was _Jem would shatter, and I…, _but quickly finished with, "it would be our fault for allowing you to be put in harm's way without proper training."

Jem sent him a look of gratitude while Tessa frowned stubbornly. "I cannot just sit here, not after last time. Besides, you may have need of my skill. I could Change into someone he trusts, someone other than Nate-"

It was Magnus who cut her off, cat eyes hidden by his half-lidded eyes. "Miss Gray, you understand that if all other options are ruled out, you may have to kill Mortmain by your own hand? That he will use any and every means to hold you there, including seriously harming any one of the people present at this table?"

"Magnus-" Charlotte said, looking distressed. Will wasn't exactly feeling calm himself; his stomach had tightened at the thought of Tessa being anywhere near the fight. Tessa clenched her hands into white fists. "No, it's fine." She looked at Magnus. "It was right of you to say that. It is unfair that people are sacrificed to keep me safe. I understand the consequences, and I still wish to fight because of them."

Magnus nodded, almost approvingly, and asked "Well, how long will it take you to be ready?"

Charlotte looked to Sophie and Cyril. "Before that, do you two wish to fight with us? I would appreciate it if you could stay here, with Gabriel and Gideon to be able to tell them, just in case…" Henry took Charlotte's hand in his, and Sophie spoke up. "If that's what you want, then of course." Cyril nodded his assent, and Charlotte's shoulders sunk in relief. "Thank you. I think three days will be sufficient. Sophie, if you could get a message to the Lightwoods?" Sophie nodded and stood, while Charlotte asked Cyril to check the armoury for an inventory. Will watch Jem and Tessa, and apparently Magnus was watching Will. "Do you think it wise?" He murmured quietly, gold-green eyes piercing. "I do not think she could forgive herself if something happened to us on her account." Will said truthfully, omitting his personal opinion that, though she had the bravery of a lion, he wouldn't be comfortable with her in danger even if she'd been one of his trained Mists.

Stepping down from the carriage, Jem looked over what at first sight appeared to be a barren wasteland. Red dust covered cracked earth like ash for a space larger than the Institute, though Jem only knew this due to Magnus's map – a thick fog obscured anything more than ten paces away. Occasionally there were yellowed patches of grass that were barely visible from the light of the waning half-moon.

"It is certainly eerie enough," Will muttered to Jem as he disembarked form the carriage, stepping beside him.

Jem agreed, but felt the strangest emotion – through their Parabatai bond he guessed – like a spring coiled up, waiting to explode. "Calm yourself, Will. No one will be hurt tonight." Jem said quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. Will gave him a long and steady look that Jem returned. The feeling lessened, but only slightly.

Jem was suddenly aware of Tessa standing on his other side. ""Are we sure this is the right place?" She asked. "Is there a glamour?"

Jem shook his head. "No. What you see is what there is." He said, slipping his hand into hers, the movement so natural it felt like breathing. Some of Jem's own tension died away as he added "Magnus did say it was an underground complex."

Henry, who had been sharing out his newly-tested device that could jam the clockwork creature's gears, heard the last sentence and began to animatedly conjecture. "There could be any number of traps, or sensors or perhaps-"

"A hoard of demons waiting for us," Will interrupted, taking two of the devices and passing on to him and Tessa, who both stored them safely in their gear. "But we won't know until we get inside."

Charlotte, who had been tethering the horses, came towards them, coiling her electrum whip around her wrist. "Will is right, which means we must find some way to get in." She paused. "I suggest we fan out and look for any devices that would trigger an entrance."

Everyone nodded, drawing their weapons, each Shadowhunter saying the name of an angel to their seraph blades, Tessa readying a thin rapier in hand.

They set off, just far away from each other to cover all the ground, but close enough to just be seen through the fog. Jem watched the figures darting in and out of sight, and could not help think of their likeliness to wraiths dressed in black, black Marks already dark against their skin. "Focus." Jem said to himself, and began to walk slowly, scanning the earth around him for any lines or hollow ground to indicate a trap door. For over ten minutes, all Jem saw was that his black gear was covered in red dust, and his hair probably looked as red as Henry's. Suddenly, Jem was surrounded by five glowing blue lines that gradually eroded inwards until he was standing on what appeared to be a black abyss.

"I found someth-!" Jem began to call out when the illusion of substance disappeared altogether, and he was falling. His legs bent automatically, bracing for the impact that came only seconds after he'd fallen, sending brief shockwaves through his legs. Jem blinked, trying to see anything either side of him, but there was only darkness.

"James!"

Jem looked up and saw Will's worried face looking over the entrance, his face illuminated by the moonlight above him. His face was flushed as though he'd been running. "I'm fine," Jem reassured him, standing.

Will's expression relaxed. "Trust you to be the one to find trouble." As he started to climb through, Jem held out a hand to steady him. "In my defence, trouble normally finds me."

One by one they dropped down, Charlotte being the first to draw her witchlight and cast light on the rough stone walls. They were in a dead-ended corridor, just wide enough that Jem could stretch out both his arms. Jem narrowed his eyes to see if there was anything at the other end, but even with his marks for sight, he could see nothing.

"Mortmain doesn't spend a lot of time decorating, does he?" Will said in a hushed voice. Jem's mouth tugged into a half smile. "I think our demise is a higher priority."

"Optimism is a valued trait." Jem smiled at Tessa's voice, and listened as they bantered while the group moved forward, Jem joined by Henry holding up another witchlight at the front. Jem listened for any noises that might alert any of Mortmain's minions to their presence, but he heard no one. No living creature. To all intents and purposes, the place appeared to be abandoned. Soon, they reached a chamber that split into three paths, marked only by crude symbols scratched into the stone over each tunnel.

"Does anyone have a coin to toss?" Will said, while Jem shook his head. "The more time we spend here, the more danger I fear we will be in."

Will looked at him and nodded, moving to stand by the entrance to the right. "I'll take this one."

"Are you sure? Alone…"

"It is not safe, Will." Charlotte said in agreement.

"I will be perfectly safe." He said to both. Facing Jem, Will tilted his head towards Tessa who was looking at the tunnels in curiosity, and Jem understood immediately. "You will know if anything happens to me." He said tapping the Parabatai rune lightly, and Jem felt it as though it were his own skin.

"I think Will knows what he's doing Charlotte." Jem said. "But I do think we ought to hurry."

Charlotte joined Henry at the mouth of the path that continued directly ahead of them as Jem stepped beside Tessa.

Charlotte broke the silence. "If we find Mortmain, then our purpose here is clear. If he is not, then we take any plans and leave. If anyone is in trouble, send out a tracing signal. We'll find you." Charlotte and Henry turned first, and soon disappeared into the darkness of their tunnel. Tessa walked forward, but Jem hesitated, looking back over his shoulder at Will's silhouette.

_Be safe, all of you. _

Will walked through the tunnel, hearing the others footsteps get quieter and quieter. It really would have been more sensible to go with Jem, seeing as their shared strength would have been useful if an attack was on the horizon. But then to ensure the plan was not in vain, they would have to span the whole base, which would have meant Tessa on her own, which was unacceptable.

Lifting the witchlight up higher, Will looked at the walls. There were lacing patterns carved in dull red – warlock marks. Whatever else Mortmain was, he knew how to set up a fortress. Will recognized them as marks of observation. When activated, they would fade to invisibility. The tunnel turned sharply, seeming to double back on itself before opening into a wider space, slightly larger than a cupboard, with no exits than the one he had entered from. "What on earth?" Why would he go through all the trouble to protect this alcove when there was nothing there? The answer presented itself easily. _Because whatever it was has since been moved._ Will turned to leave. Maybe he had missed a fork in the tunnel that would lead to something useful. Before he'd taken a single step, there was a rush of sir that seemed to emanate from the floor. Will closed his eyes against the wind and when he opened them, was more disoriented than a lost homing pigeon. Four stone walls had become the first branch of a frosted glass maze. The sides stretched well over his head, seven, eight feet into the air. Will placed his hand on one, and it shimmered briefly, but did not react in any other way.

"Damn it." Will growled. If only he had his wings! He started moving, keeping on hand on the right of a maze. A fork came into sight, and Will continued right then stopped, reaching for the stele. Will drew a rune of fire onto the glass, hoping to melt his way out. No sooner had the rune been finished, the glass seemed to catch fire – all of them. Will cringed against the blistering heat, moving again to avoid being badly burnt. In his gear, the heat was unbearable, causing the air to waver in front of him. Will skid blindly around turn after turn, terrifying images of his wings being burned off his back leaping into his distracted mind.

_Not again. Never again! _

His lungs burned for clean air, and a world not covered in writhing red flames. Without even realising, Will called up a memory of his own training. Something Raziel had told him. _"If you cannot see your enemy, they can manipulate you. Once in sight, you can control your own actions."_ Will hadn't taken much notice because he could see through glamours, but now it made all too much sense. Stopping at what appeared to be a dead end, Will braced himself. Stepping back several steps, he took a deep breath and ran straight _through _the wall of flame, not giving himself time to imagine singed flesh and burning gear.

In one second, Will was on fire, burning from the inside out, trapped in glass-like flames.

In the next second, he was free, landing on a cold stone floor, mentally exhausted but unharmed.

"For the magister, you will die." A gravelly voice intoned, and Will raised his head to find half a dozen armed lycanthropes in front of five automatons.

Will stood, slowing readying his seraph blade. "Oh, hell."

Jem and Tessa followed their path in silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Tessa couldn't help but think of the labyrinth in Greek mythology that was inescapable. _Don't be silly_, she told herself. _We are not going to face a Minotaur._ The gloom illuminated only by the witchlight gave way to a huge room that looked like some kind of assembly line. There were cogs everywhere, pieces of half-formed clockwork creatures resting on a stretch of rubber. A banked furnace at the far side of the room would have heated the metal heaped in a pile in front of it. Barrels and barrels of what appeared to be oil. To the far left though, there were- "Jem…"

Jem followed Tessa's line of vision and flinched. Rows and rows of metal tables had white sheets covering human-shapes underneath. "Don't look," Jem said to Tessa in an undertone. "We can't help them now." Tessa shuddered. To die alone and be treated in such a way… Mrs Dark and Mrs Black had done those things to people. Tessa's grip on her sword tightened._ This is why it has to end._

Jem walked over to the half-made creatures, and Tessa hurried to keep up. "Be careful." Tessa remembered their ambush on Blackfriars Bridge all too clearly. Jem seem to be thinking along the same lines. "There's no cause for worry," Jem replied. "These one have not yet been programed to do Mortmain's bidding, nor have they been tied to souls." He moved the creature aside, looking for something behind it. "There don't seem to be any plans here. We should head back to the others. I'm worried about-"

Tessa never did find out exactly who, or what, Jem was worried about because a small, bug-like creature had erupted from the empty clockwork shell. Its whirring mechanisms were as loud as its frantically moving wings. Tessa recognized it immediately, and did the only thing she could think of. "Jem, duck now!" Tessa swung her sword at the creature like a baseball bat, the flat of the blade pinning it to the wall, crushing the mechanisms inside until they gradually grinded to a halt.

Tessa looked down at Jem, who was staring up with something akin to bemusement. "I-I'm sorry." Tessa said, suddenly feeling unaccountably embarrassed at her impulsive actions. Aunt Harriet had always said ladies ought to be demure and controlled at all times.

Jem stood, shaking his head. "Don't be – you acted on instinct, and that told you to catch it. I'm impressed. Though," He added, smiling, "I did appreciate the warning beforehand."

Tessa couldn't help but laugh weakly. "I truly am sorry. It was the first thing that came to mind."

As Tessa removed her sword from the wall, Jem reached forward to catch it. "I'm sure Henry would appreciate another one of these." It took Tessa a moment to realise, but Jem was using a different hand to the usual. There was also a small pool of blood on the floor. "What happened to your hand?" Tessa said quietly, fearing she had accidently struck him in the frenzy.

Jem brought his right hand from behind his back and turned it face-up in front of Tessa to reveal a bloody gash straight across his palm. "When I dropped to the floor, my hand landed on a shard of metal." Tessa's eyes widened in horror, and Jem added "It was my fault, and easily remedied." Jem pulled out his stele and drew a careful Iratze. His hand flexed as the muscle knit itself back together under Tessa's relived gaze.

"Being a Shadowhunter can have its uses." Jem said, smiling, stowing the stele away with the flattered clockwork bug.

Tessa, having seen that Jem was fine, began to piece the evidence together. "Jem, that means Mortmain knows were here, that we're looking."

Jem's expression turned grave, his pale eyes dimming. "You're right. We should get back to the others. But first…" Jem walked over to the furnace and drew a quick rune, before returning to Tessa. "Mark of inflammability." He said with a small grin in answer to Tessa's questioning expression. "It may not stop a clockwork army, but it will certainly slow down their construction."

Tessa looked up at Jem and her heart ached with both joy and strain. "We should go."

They turned and left the half-made clockwork creatures behind them.

Bruised and bloodied, Will had knocked out three of the lycanthropes and one of the clockwork monsters. Even outnumbered, he was going to put up a fight. Wiping the blood from the split lip one of the lycanthropes had given him – the one who was currently passed out – Will readjusted his grip on his seraph blade. "Cowards." He said to the remaining three, and they snarled at him, angry, but wary too. _Good._ For a few seconds, no one moved, and Will tried to catch his breath. He was quite sure he had a fractured rib. Then he heard a growl, and leapt upwards as the closet lycanthrope, a tall black-headed man lunged for him, claws protruding from his fingers. Will swing out his leg, catching the man in the head, sending him sprawling back where the other two scattered to ensure they weren't hit.

_Some friends they are. _

The two remaining lycanthropes looked at each other and Will understood immediately. Double attack, probably one aiming for the chest and the other for the legs. Will grinned, hoping both to distract the lycanthropes and because he had a plan forming. It would hurt, but it would almost certainly work.

Both Lycanthropes were there, then one blurred, and was not. Will felt a searing pain in his left shoulder, crying out as wolf teeth sank into his flesh.

Will had forgotten one thing. He was no longer amongst those who would act as he predicted.

Even the runes he'd requested Jem to make on his skin were burning out fast. Seeing double from how fast he was losing blood, Will used his right arm to plunge the seraph blade into the wolf's side, its jerking tearing the teeth out. "Holy-" Will fell to his knees, trying to convince himself the blood seeping across the floor was all the dead wolf's. He didn't know if there was time for an Iratze, but he sure could have used one. Grimacing against the pain, Will looked up at the last remaining man, flanked by the clockwork creatures. "If you're going to kill me," Will said, reaching behind him for the device that Henry had given him that had been knocked out of his hand when he'd first tried to use it, "Do so quickly. I have important people to see." _Providing I ever get out of this alive, I have to apologise to Jem for being such a terrible Parabatai for a start._

"The Magister wanted you alive, little angel boy." The Lycanthrope said, baring his pointed teeth. Will stiffened. Considering how old he was, the only one who had right to call him _boy_ was Raziel himself. Will stood, swaying but upright, left arm useless and heavy. That was of no consequence. Gathering the tattered shreds of his energy and focus, Will began a series of movements that had no cutting ability, but had lots of power behind them. The lycanthrope blocked them with his claws, having leant his blade to one of the fallen. Will pushed so hard he swore sparks flew when the blade met bone. When the man's back hit the wall, Will aimed and drove the blade through his claws into his chest, where it remained. The dying man's eyes, however, saved his life. In them, Will saw the two clockwork creatures close behind him, both with swords. Will drew a dagger from his belt and made a shallow slash in one of the creature's torso while ducking an attack. Ignoring the screaming of his rib, Will stuffed Henry's device in and took as many paces back as he could before-

Cogs and gears flew in all directions, and Will hissed as one struck his arm. Once the dust had settled, Will was mildly impressed to see the second automaton had been close enough to the first that it too had come apart.

Sinking to the floor, Will reached for his Stele, eyes blurring through more than pain. _It shouldn't be like this! Downworlders, Shadowhunters, no none should be sacrificed. It's not right. _Will didn't know where Downworlders went when they died, but he hoped it was peaceful. The traditional Shadowhunter farewell was… not appropriate, but Will felt he had to say something.

"If peace was not with you in this life, may it stay with you in the next." He whispered. It was then Will noticed something white behind the automaton's shell - paper? No, Will saw it was powder, encased in a small tin box. Will inhaled to confirm - It was Jem's drug. The knowledge that Mortmain was that much less likely to be able to have a hold over Jem, over any of them, was as much of a relief as the healing runes he'd just applied.

Will tucked it inside a hidden pocket and began to limp out of the room, leaving behind the death to look at the hope that the others at least, had fared better than him.

After walking for a few minutes down the rough stone corridor, Will paused to let his body finish healing. Then the pounding in his head started - the response to a tracer, which meant someone was in trouble. Will pushed off the wall and started running towards the signal. He had felt nothing from Jem through the Parabatai bond, so that left Charlotte and Henry. The trace sent out another wave and Will doubled his speed, taking half the time to go back than he had taken to get there. Will emerged from his tunnel into the open space where they had split up, nearly knowing over Jem, who pulled out his hand to steady Will.

"It's coming from-"

"Charlotte and Henry." Jem finished, and behind him Tessa looked drawn and pale. "Tessa, could you ready the carriage? If someone is badly wounded then they will not be able to walk the distance."

Will knew the other reasons that Jem was sending Tessa away – what defeated trained Shadowhunters would be too much for her, and the speed they would go at would leave her behind.

Tessa nodded. "Of course." Will looked away as Jem reached for Tessa's hand, and then they were running again, faster than the speed of humans, past corners and low ceilings. Will noticed the same marks of observation on these walls to? _What if they're modified, and active when visible? _

Left, right, right they turned, until finally the signal of the tracer stopped. Will and Jem ran into a battlefield. Wood and glass were strewn in shattered pieces along the wide room, and there was a high pedestal of sorts with what looked like-

"Is that the Pyxis?" Jem asked, but Will was staring at Henry lying motionless while Charlotte knelt over him. The two boys rushed over to them, and saw the reason for the tracer Charlotte had drawn on her left wrist. There was an arrow embedded in Henry's stomach, almost as far as the fletching.

"What happened?" Jem asked gently, as Will checked Henry's pulse. Alive, but weak.

Charlotte raised her face, and Will was shocked to see tears rolling down it. "Later. First we- we have to take the arrow out."

Henry groaned, and Charlotte took his hand. "Just hold on, please. For me. For Buford."

Henry's eyes fluttered open, the only colour in his ashen face. "We're really naming him Buford?" He said, voice little more than an exhale of breath. Charlotte let out a choked laugh. "Only if you don't go."

"I wouldn't…" Henry's head rolled back.

"No!" Charlotte exclaimed, cradling his face in her hands. "No, no, Henry stay with me, please!"

Will looked at Jem, and he nodded. "I'll take it out, you apply pressure. " Jem said.

"Charlotte," Jem said softly. "You have to hold him down. This will hurt."

Charlotte stared at them blankly, fresh tears running down her face. "Yes."

Jem knelt by Charlotte and gripped the arrow firmly. "Three, two, _one_." Jem pulled the arrow out quickly, and Will pushed down on the wound with both of his hands as Henry convulsed. The blood seeped through Will's fingers. _No, No! _ "James, trade with me."

Jem was already beside him, hands above his waiting for Will to make his move. Will drew his hands away and took out his stele. "An Iratze won't work on this, Will." Jem said in an undertone, to avoid Charlotte overhearing. "I know." Will said, pushing aside the torn fabric of Henry's gear so he could mark directly on the skin. "That's why I'm not doing an Iratze." Wishing he'd spent far more time around the healers up in Heaven, Will drew a rune that was designed for those in combat. It wouldn't heal everything, but it would put the person in a fixed state for a period of time, so that they could be taken to those who could help them.

"Charlotte," Will said, touching her arm to draw her attention. "He will live. But we need to get him to the silent brothers as soon as possible."

Charlotte's face lit up in hope. "He'll survive?"

Will nodded. "But we have to move, now." Will looked to Jem, but he already seemed to know what Will was thinking. They each draped one of Henry's arms over their shoulders and lifted him up, while Charlotte kept pace behind them. She spoke as they walked, doing their best not to jostle Henry, who remained unconscious. Will was glad – at least the pain he was in would be lessened.

"We were looking through desks and such, when Henry spotted that pedestal at the back of the room, with the Pyxis." Charlotte shook her head. "He thinks it's his fault that Mortmain took it, so he wanted to retrieve it. He climbed the wall, but it was a trap. While Henry touched the Pyxis, an arrow was shot from a space in the wall and- and he fell." Charlotte wrung her hands together. "I should have told him no, that we didn't need it, that-"

"Charlotte," Jem said soothingly. "This is not your fault. It is no one's fault. You could not have stopped it."

Charlotte sighed sadly. "Thank you, Jem. I only hope Henry sees it that way."

"He will." Jem said, and Will agreed. There was nothing those two would not do for each other.

Will and Jem waited outside the room where a Silent Brother was seeing to Henry. Charlotte had been in there for over half an hour when she finally came out, a smile of happiness so bright in her face, it was like a miniature sun. "He will be fine!" She said, clasping Will's and Jem's hand in her own. "Thank you so much. If it weren't for you-"

"You would have known what to do, Charlotte." Will said, moved by her gratitude. This was what he had wondered at while with the Watchers. The unfailing human capability to love.

"Will is right. You sent out the tracer. Without that, we wouldn't have been able to help." Jem added, smiling widely.

Charlotte released their hands and turned back.

"Charlotte," Will said, something cropping up in his mind. "Could you tell Henry his device saved my life?"

Charlotte laughed as she opened the door. "That I can do."

Will and Jem turned to each other, twin looks of relief and joy on their faces, which reminded Will of something. Fishing out the tin box, Will gave it to Jem. "I know that Mortmain has been buying up supplies, and this was at the base so I…" Jem looked at the box in his hand with a mixture of relief and reluctance. "I mean, I know it is not..." Will had run out of words when he needed them the most. What words were there to tell someone closer to you than your own soul that you wanted them to survive, even if that survival was a half-life.

"Sometimes I believe you are the blessing to my curse, Will." Jem said quietly, and Will's heart sang.

"By the way," Jem added conversationally as they walked down the corridor. "Why are you covered in blood _again_?"

Will laughed. "That, my friend, is a long story."

Tessa sank further into the armchair in the library, reaching her hands out to the roaring fireplace. It was an odd thing, winter. No sight of the sun for days at a time yet when it snowed, even the dull skies looked beautiful. _But still..._ Tessa sighed, homesick for lush green grass and clear skies.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Gah!" Tessa jumped as a voice chuckled behind her. Fighting back the blood rising to her cheeks, she said "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, this and that." He answered casually. Ignoring the chairs either side of Tessa he sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with his legs outstretched. It left his face both bathed in golden light and hidden in shadow, like a star half covered by clouds. "You looked deep in thought." He remarked.

Tessa shut her book with an audible _snap_. "More like despair," Tessa said exasperatedly. "I... Nevermind. It's nothing." Complaints about the weather weren't what he had come here to listen to, Tessa was sure.

Will cocked his head to the side and smiled lazily. "It doesn't sound like nothing."

"I appreciate your concern, but it really is nothing. Good day, Will." She said, standing to walk out of the room when she stopped dead, hand flying to cover her mouth. On the table by the door was an open pack of playing cards and an empty crystal decanter, the sort used to hold whiskey.

It was nothing remarkable, in any way. But it rung so strongly of Nate that Tessa couldn't contain the sob that escaped. The loss struck her over again, robbing her of breath. He had been a fool, but he had been her brother. His betrayal felt like a fresh wound. All the evil things he had done crept into her mind like snakes. Aunt Harriet. Agatha. Thomas. Her life had changed so much, for which she was grateful, but the darkness of the Shadow world seemed to block out the light. Mortmain eluded them at every step, blocking them at every opportunity. It only seemed like a matter of time before he really would end it.

"Oh, Nate." Tessa whispered, closing her eyes against the tears. She hadn't given a thought to Will until he slid his hand into hers and squeezed it reassuringly. Tessa opened her eyes in surprise and a single tear fell.

Will gently brushed it away with his fingertips. He opened his mouth and for a heartbeat Tessa feared some cold remark, but he just announced "I know exactly what you need." Will let go of her hand and motioned to the door. "Go get some warm clothes and meet me back at the main door of the Institute." When Tessa hesitated he laughed. "Really, Tessa. I am not going to compromise your virtue – I'm saving that for Sophie."

At that, Tessa had to smile. From the first moment Sophie had laid eyes on Will, she'd disliked him. Slipping through the doors, she shook her head. What would become of them if they all succumbed to weaknesses?

Will waited at the doors of the Institute, questioning his capacity for self-destruction. He was supposed to be ensuring no one could love him, yet there he was. Surely though, one small act of kindness to someone he'd known only a few short months could do no harm? Will had seen her life as long as it had been entwined with the inhabitants of the institute. He felt as though he knew her well, though of course to her, he'd be nothing more than a familiar stranger.

Seeing her sad was like seeing a bird in a cage, and Will could do nothing but try to find the right key to the door. He'd felt the same despair, and Jem had been there to reach out a hand to him. Now it was his turn to be there for Jem's beloved.

"Will!"

Will jumped to see Tessa standing opposite him, a curious smile lifting her lips. "Yes?" He replied, returning the smile, though it felt darker than he meant it to be.

Tessa straightened her silk gloves as she replied. "I called your name about three times. Where were you?" Will looked at her, dark eyes and drawn face. He took her hand and put it in the crook of his elbow. "In the clouds, just north of where we should be." With that, he led her out of the door, pulling it shut behind him.

Will led her through the streets of London, neglecting to mention he had never noticed which way he went when he wandered at night. It was bitingly cold; the breeze carried glistening snowflakes, barely noticeable when they landed on the piles of snow heaped to the side of the roads. Tessa was quiet, lost in her own thoughts, so Will asked her what she liked to do. His justification was that the purpose of their outing was to take her mind off her grief. However, a substantial reason was that he was curious. Will wanted to know this girl that had appeared in his mirror one day, and stayed there.

"I love to read." She answered simply.

Will cocked his head to the side. "Dickens, Shakespeare?"

Tessa seemed to stare straight through him. "Their works gave me company when I had no one." Suppressing a laugh, Will said "It seems we have a common interest."

The journey went by much quicker as they debated the merits and flaws of characters and plots, and soon Will found himself relaxing from his incessant worries about the world. "Enough for now," Will said, cutting off the banter by conceding the point that maybe Dickens hadn't had demonpox, though he was still fairly sure of it in his own mind. "We're here."

Tessa narrowed her eyes at him. They had stopped at one of the grey stone embankments of the Thames. "The river?" She asked doubtingly.

Will tutted at her. "Really, Tessa. 'A man who calls a spade a spade-'"

"Is all he deserves to use. Mr Wilde. So, Will Herondale, what do I call this?"

"Fun. Here, sit down for a minute." Will instructed, motioning to a wrought iron bench, most likely constructed by someone who'd argued with a faery. Tessa did so, never taking her eyes of Will. "Now, he said, pulling out his stele, "don't move." He gathered some snow and ice in his hand, feeling the cold seep into his bare skin.

"Do you try to be the dark, handsome, mysterious type, or does it come naturally?" Tessa asked exasperatedly, crossing her arms. She didn't notice Will freeze for the smallest of seconds, hear his heart stutter, gripped by a hand colder than the snow that blanketed the world. _No_,_ not like that._

Will steeled himself. He had decided to act, and would not regret that decision. For all the years he had watched earth, he knew that a single action would have far-reaching consequences, but he could see no ill outcomes of saving a girl, one who had brought so much light into the lives of others from drowning in sorrow. He would not go back on it now. He could never go back.

"You think I'm handsome?" Will returned with a grin he hoped would catch her off guard. Stuck in the same role for centuries he felt like quicksilver, changing faster than the eye could see. So Raziel had cursed him – there had been no evidence to show that it was anything more than wishing a nightmare on someone.

Tessa blushed, clearly having spoken without thinking. "N-no, I- That is not what I meant!" Will shook his head in amusement, and knelt in front of her, enquiring "Have you ever heard of Ice skates, Tessa?"

"Of course."

Will nodded and tapped some snow onto the bottom of her shoe and before she could move away, drew a quick rune. As Tessa stared down in wonder, Will did the same to her other shoe, "Well, think of this as the Shadowhunter version. Much less uncomfortable." Another rune and Tessa had blades of ice affixed to the undersides of her shoes. Settling on the bench beside her, Will gave the same treatment to his own boots, watching how Tessa turned her foot this way and that, admiring the ice as it caught the light out of the corner of his eye.

He stood and, seeing Tessa's uncertainty, held out his hand to help her up, his skin tingling as she held on for balance. The wonder in her eyes was overcome only by the smile on her lips. "Do you trust me?" Will asked. Tessa's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "I…Yes, I do. But why-?"

It was all he needed to hear. Will moved his arm from her hand to around her shoulders, slipping the other under her knees, lifting her off the ground before leaping over the embankments to the other side.

Tessa buried her face in Will's shoulder as they fell. She felt him land, legs bending to absorb the impact. As he stood, he murmured, "You can let go now." Tessa flushed again as she realised she hadn't loosened her grip. Her blush only deepened when she realised she didn't want to let go immediately. Tessa hurried to plant her own two feet on the solid surface of the River Thames, facing away from Will. "You could have at least warned me." Tessa muttered, shaking back her odd feelings, and half trying to recall the number of heroes that had saved people that way in her novels. Countless, it seemed. She couldn't see Will smile, but she could hear it in his voice. "And spoil the surprise? Never."

Tessa sighed, stepping forward, forgetting she was no longer on flat shoes. Even as she stumbled, Will was in front of her, a steadying hand on her arm. "Easy there." Will looked at her with inscrutable eyes, and seemed like he wanted to say more, but settled for taking her hand. "Watch my feet." He said quietly, showing her that skating was about balance and how the skates should slide one after the other. Tessa looked at him gratefully – not just for avoiding the fact that she couldn't skate, but for an inner kindness he seemed to hold deep inside of him, as though it were fragile glass,

Soon, Tessa had forgotten her cold fingers and took joy in what felt almost like flight. She could do little more than skate in a straight line, but the feeling of her dress swishing around her ankles in the cool breeze felt like a reprieve from the darkness that had seemed to rule her every thought.

For the first time since his banishment Will felt a kind of peace. Under a grey sky that could be mistaken for silver, standing on a river that man had harnessed but was shaped by nature, he could look around and not regret that he had survived the fall. Of course, he strongly suspected that was due in part to a brunette, grey-eyed person who was biting her lip with concentration. Tessa was gliding towards him now, out of breath and laughing. She skated right up, barely stopping in time. "Thank you," She said taking hold of his hand. "Sincerely, thank you, Will."

With a jolt, he smiled. "My pleasure, Tessa." The peace in him turned to bright joy, and he tugged on Tessa's hand. "I'll show you what skating can really be like."

Tessa looked at him warily, a gleam in her eye. "No more surprises?" She asked, mock-stern.

Will laughed aloud. When had he last felt like this? So light and free inside? "I promise."

Soon they were leaving trails of carved up ice in their wake, circle after circle. The world became a pale blur around them, and Will heard music strike up somewhere, perhaps on the bridge. Allowing himself to slow to a stop, he bowed to Tessa. "May I have this dance?"

She still held his hand. "Why does this feel familiar?" Tessa replied, smiling.

"Déjà vu, I believe." Will supplied.

"I would be honoured."

So Will took her by the arm and modified the steps to fit the ice as they went along. They may have danced for an hour, lost in each other's company and words. Will felt close to heaven – in the crisp evening air, he had pulled her from misery and given her hope. That alone was good enough for now. Raising his own arm he spun her once, twice, only stopping because they had reached the embankment, the bricks stretching far above them.

Tessa leaned against it. "Just as well," She said, "I think my feet might fall off!"

Will played along. "Is that another way of asking me to carry you again?"

Tessa looked up, ready to defend her intentions when she caught sight of his wide teasing smile and relaxed.

Will's heart began to race. Tessa was so beautiful, and she didn't seem to realise it. She was so _alive_, in that moment. He had been tasked with watching Shadowhunters and by association, he had seen her – the impact she and her brother had made on the London Institute.

_She is intelligent._

He trailed his fingers across her cheek, so gently.

_She's so kind. _

Will leaned forward until their foreheads were touching and they breathed the same frosted air. She was like a burning star, and he was helpless to stop.

"What are you doing?" Tessa's voice tore him out of his reverie.

Will stepped back. "Nothing…Forgive me."

_She is already loved. _

Suddenly Will felt as though a knife were slicing into his skin, a knife with burning edges. He dropped to his knees, trying to breathe through the pain in his chest.

"Will!" Tessa called out in concern, dropping to kneel beside him. "Are you hurt?"

Through the seething pain Will wondered why she'd thought he hadn't merely slipped, but when he looked down he saw blood seeping through his white shirt. Slowly, like someone with a fevered illness he undid the shirt and tugged it down, revealing his illegal Parabatai rune. It had scorched his skin, drawing the dark blood from his veins.

"It's not me," Will gasped, a cold fear gripping his heart while the rune over it burned. "It's Jem."


	4. Winds of Change

The journey back to the Institute was swift – Tessa would have run the entire way had her dress not be so heavy and the roads so slippery. She had a million questions… how did Will know? How badly was Jem hurt? What could she do? Tessa didn't voice any of them to Will who had silently kept pace with her. It was as though he felt the same way she did, the only thing Tessa had no reason to question; the necessity of being by Jem's side. Even if she would only be in the way, even if there was nothing she could do, Tessa had to be with him.

As they reached the doors of the Institute, Will seemed to hesitate, reluctant to open them. Once he had, Tessa began to run to Jem's room, dress or no dress when Church came padding down the corridor, yowling as though in pain. The cat paused in front of them for the briefest moment, tail flicking in agitation before he turned and went back the way he came. Tessa stared on, baffled, while Will began jogging after Church.

"Will, what are you doing?" Tessa cried out, her worry making her snap.

"Following the cat." He answered hoarsely. Tessa saw him look at her in the witchlight, sorrow plain in his eyes. "That cat loves Jem, and I'm sure he's leading us to him. Besides," he added, touching the bloodied material over his chest as Tessa caught up with him. "Jem would be in the infirmary."

Will hung back again, letting the damned cat go in first, and watched as Tessa ran in after it. Beyond the frantic burning of the Parabatai rune was a guilt do deep it breached the barriers of his skin and seeped into his bones, a black poison preventing him from moving. _Coward_, A voice whispered. Will gritted his teeth and pushed open the door. When Will had still been in heaven, he had been taught about the levels of hell, where demons were created. It had always brought to his mind images of blackness and cold. Now, Will understood, hell was red and white. Jem sat in a bed, hunched over white sheets covered in the blood that dripped from his mouth through the fingers covering it. His other hand was being held fiercely by Tessa. Brave Tessa. Even as Jem convulsed, midway through asking her to leave, she resolutely stayed seated.

"I'm here, James. Always, like you were for me." Tessa whispered it, and it was only because of his enhanced hearing that he heard it at all. Jem's pale face looked up at her with gratitude and Will flinched. His eyes were a dull grey, the colour of ashes, and sweat covered his forehead. He looked like death.

Jem must have seen Will, because gratitude became hope, and he stretched out his bloody hand towards Will. "Please-" Jem was cut off by a choking cough. A Silent Brother Will hadn't noticed was there concealed Jem from Will's view for a moment.

_It's my fault. It's all my fault. _Horror and shame washed over him like a rip tide. He had thought it impossible – that the curse should be real, that anyone could love him in such a short time. Will's hands clenched into fists. "Forgive me, brother." Will whispered and heart breaking, ran from the infirmary, from Tessa and Jem, from the innocence that had led him to do something unforgivable.

Pushing the doors of the Institute open, Will ran into a pale snowstorm that hid the remnants of the blazing setting sun. He didn't feel the wind tear at his clothes and skin, nor hear it scream its secrets.

The colours of hell were red and white.

Will ran as fast as his legs would allow. He had no destination in his mind, only Jem, ill by his doing. Will stumbled as his heart flared briefly, but regained his balance and kept moving. As long as he could get far away for long enough, Jem would be fine. They all would. Safe from him.

Will passed poorly lit streets and snow-covered roads, moving too fast for the mundane eye to see. He ran for hours and hours, until his lungs cried out for air and his legs trembled beneath him. The sun had long since set, the moon now sinking over the horizon. Reluctantly, Will slowed and looked around him. If there had been any hope in him, he would have laughed at the irony. As it was he could barely stop himself from falling. Will had run to a small church – an old, abandoned building whose brick walls leaned inwards under the weight of the skeletal roof. Snow-painted weeds and ivy grew over it, making it appear half-grown rather than built. Resisting the scream of his muscles, Will pushed himself through a rusted iron gate and walked unsteadily to the entrance. There were scratches in the rotting wood of the padlocked doors, faded by time and neglect.

Maybe they had been lost too. Placing his hand on the dark wood, Will uttered the words he had heard countless times, but had never thought he'd have to use himself. "In the name of the clave I ask entry into this holy place. In the name of-" Will's hoarse voice cut out before he reached Raziel's name, but suddenly the padlock snapped and the doors creaked open.

Walking into the church felt like walking into a town devastated by a storm, and he would know. Nearly an entire enclave had been killed by a hurricane that had torn through America some years ago. The inside was dark, the chipped floor barely discernible. Titling his head back, Will could see the bare beams of wood that were all that remains of the roof, allowing the snowstorm to blanket the debris in a blanket of white. The storm itself had passed, and the moon could be seen, its light the only source of illumination as Will slowly made his way down the aisle, though there were no pews to mark his progress. All was silent, broken only by the harsh gasps of his breath. Cracks in the walls and underfoot seemed to mock him, to say that where he walked, destruction followed, and where he was to go, destruction had already been.

Suddenly his foot caught on the uneven edge of something and Will fell, unable to stop himself.

He didn't want to.

Turning on his back, Will used his arm to sweep the snow of what had tripped him. A gravestone, inlaid in the floor a metre away from a bare stone alter.

Will was so tired. As he stared up at the starless sky with only the moon for company, he fought to stay the anger in his heart and the pain in his body. "Raziel, please," He whispered brokenly. "Take me home." Will longed for the open sky and freedom, but more than that, he didn't want to hurt.

Jem's blood. Tessa's white fingers.

Will didn't know how long he stayed there, between the dead and forgotten before he fell into a restless sleep.

When Will awoke, the sun had painted the church in a pale light. But that wasn't what had roused him. There was a woman's voice murmuring behind his head. Though his body was numb from the snow he'd slept in, Will tried to focus.

"How could you do this to him? You, of all people." A pause. "Oh, fine. Though if it were up to me, I wouldn't forgive you for a long, _long_ time."

Will shifted, alerting the woman to his presence.

"Here, let me help you." A pair of soft hands to match the voice helped him up. The woman looked in her late twenties with raven hair curling to her waist and eyes the colour of emeralds.

"Thank you." Will said, coughing slightly. His throat felt like sandpaper.

"You're welcome." She sat back on her heels, and Will saw she was wearing a corseted sleeveless dress almost the shade of her eyes. Will cocked his head to the side. She seemed oddly familiar. "Have I met you before?" Stupid question, unless she's been an angel, then the only place he could have met her would have been the New Year's party.

The woman thought about it, and for a second she looked sad. "No. I'm Arianna. And you are?"

Will looked at her proffered hand. "Will." Arianna smiled, lighting up the space around them. "And also running away," She added. "We'll have to do something about that." Her tone changed to no-nonsense, which surprised Will as much as the fact she knew he was running.

"How do you know _that_?" Putting all the shame, guilt and anger into the single word still didn't put enough emphasis on it.

Arianna gave him a look that said volumes. "Sweetheart, you're in a derelict church in the middle of nowhere. It's not the average idea of fun."

She had a point. Using the steps of the altar to support him, Will stood, stretching the cold from his limbs, though it remained in his thoughts. "True enough. But what made me run I-" Will swallowed. "I can't say." _I can never say._

Arianna looked at him considering. "Follow me." She stood, and walked - Will subtly pinched his arm just to check he was awake – _through _the altar. As an angel, he had seen many things, some explicable and some impossible to put reason to. This particular case happened to lean towards the former. "Arianna," Will began cautiously. "Do you know that you're a ghost?"

"Yes." She answered without turning. Will took the normal route around the altar and looked at Arianna with new eyes. She was the most corporeal ghost he had ever seen. She must've had huge amount of willpower.

The ghost in question held out her hands palm up. Sighing, she said "If he knew I was showing you this, I would be in a lot of trouble." When Will looked at her questioningly, she clicked her tongue impatiently. "Come along," She said, all trace of melancholy gone.

"Who?" Will asked, as he laid his hands on hers. Then he said nothing more as the church was replaced by pure darkness.

_Have I gone blind? _

Arianna's voice prevented him from running. "Have you ever wondered why your wings were black?"

The night began to condense, become denser and denser, finally settling into the shape of wings with individual shadows instead of feathers.

Suddenly there was the wind of a storm beneath then, and Will was catapulted above the darkness into a clear blue sky. _Midday blue_, he noted distantly as the joy of flight overtook him. Then came the visions, each more vibrant than the last.

Black skies lined with fire. Thousands of shapes fighting and being slaughtered. An angel, white wings fanning out to dodge a blow.

A dragon demon with raking claws and blood-dyed fangs.

An angel attempting to fight it.

The demon dragging a claw across the angel.

Fire. Everywhere. It burned the world.

"Enough." Will said, as the smoke crept into his lungs. "_Enough!"_

With a jolt, he found himself in the Institute, looking over the infirmary. Tessa had fallen asleep, with her head resting on the sheets. Jem looked at her with tender eyes, gently tracing her face with the tips of his pale fingers.

"They need you."

Arianna's voice grounded him. Ripping his hands away from hers, he exclaimed "I am the reason he's hurt! They _need_ me to go and never return." Turning, Will leaned his head against the flaking wall. He didn't move until Arianna laid a hand on his shoulder. "It is you destiny, sweetheart. You're meant for great things. With them, you can protect them. Elsewhere…"

"I can do nothing." Will growled. "But how can I protect those I must keep at arm's length?"

Arianna let her hand drop. "All that anger, all the pain, harness it. Create a shield to stop others being hurt. Become who you must be." The last sentence was murmured, and when Will turned back, she was gone.

Letting his back slide down the wall, Will was once again seated in frost – all that was left of the snowfall of the night before. He'd sat like this with Tessa in the drawing room where he had been desperate to see her smile, hear her laugh. Now he had to play the devil. Will wanted to delay the inevitable, but knew that he could not.

Will swore to himself that if he ever saw Raziel again, he'd show him the true meaning of hell.

Standing, Will picked his way among the debris, passing the grave he'd fallen onto and passing under the arch of the doors. It was time to become who he needed to be. It was time to build a wall that could never come down.

Charlotte walked to the infirmary, wryly thinking that Shadowhunters spend quite a large amount of time healing, or at least being patched up. But today, she had news to tell. Jem had been chaffing at being unable to move from the infirmary. The coughing had lessened thanks to the skills of the Silent Brothers, but he was still weak. Charlotte drew a breath as she pushed open the door to the infirmary. It had not been easy, seeing Jem so ill. He had always been there for the Institute, for her, and it was not worth thinking what everyone had been wondering. _Would he survive? _

"Jem," Charlotte called his attention away from some sheet music. He had asked for his violin to be brought down because as he put it – "I'll waste away from sheer inactivity." The smile on his face had been strained then, but now Charlotte as delighted to see it was real and without pain.

Stopping by his bed, she asked "How do you feel?"

"I'm on the mend, Charlotte. You needn't worry for me so much." Jem paused, and the smile grew. "How are you feeling? I heard that Henry and some horse radishes had an undesirable effect."

Charlotte laughed, passing a hand over her stomach. "Buford-I mean, the baby doesn't seem to be fond of Henry's creativity with food."

Jem motioned for her to take a seat in the solitary chair near his bed. "Much as I love hearing about this, I don't think you came for idle chat. What is troubling you?"

Charlotte sighed. The Silent Brothers had told her news that was both disturbing and relieving. "This was worse than the other times wasn't it?" She asked softly, and Jem nodded, drawing in a hesitant breath. "I wasn't sure I'd-"

Charlotte interrupted. "We would have done everything to ensure that did not happen."

"Even though it is inevitable?" Jem said with no despair, only a kind of quiet acceptance that Charlotte had long since respected. Shaking her head, charlotte told him. "Your sickness is not getting worse so quickly, Jem, it just took a day to run through your system. The powder retrieved from the warehouse was contaminated. Mortmain had been mixing it with other substances to make it more effective and clearly it was not made for Shadowhunters." Charlotte omitted another fact the Silent Brother had pointed out – that even with the combination of other demon powders, the onset of the illness had been startlingly quick, as though another factor or poison were involved.

"Made to kill us, perhaps." Jem attempted to make light of his relief, though it shone clear in his eyes. Suddenly the relief was replaced by dread. "Charlotte, please do not tell Will of this."

Charlotte was bemused. "Why ever not? I thought he'd be happy that you were well."

Jem clenched his runed hands into fists. "Will is the one who retrieved the powder. He gave it to me. I cannot – will not have this on his conscience. Not when it seems like he has something already there. Not on my account."

Charlotte looked at Jem sadly, remembering the shy boy he'd come to the institute as. "We all have our demons. Some more than others."

Jem reached over and gently touched Charlotte's hand. "But they shall never win, because we still have hope."

Looking at the morning light in the windows, Charlotte stood. "Thank you, Jem. If you'll excuse me, I have paperwork to finish. Henry's all but forbidden me from doing anything strenuous." She added exasperatedly, smiling as she pushed open the door.

"Charlotte," Jem called out. "_Have_ you seen Will recently?"

Charlotte paused. "Not recently." The smile slid into a frown. "I'll ask Sophie." With that, she was gone and Jem was left to his own devices once more.

Will opened his eyes, and was in a large field with long, waving wheat, the sun just touching the horizon, setting. The red glow made everything look hazy and immaterial, as though they would disappear at any moment. "This is peculiar." The last thing he remembered was running back to the institute and…passing out at the front steps. _Oh._ That explained why his head hurt.

"Hello sweetheart." Will turned to the left to see Arianna sitting in the grass beside him. "Am I dreaming?"

Arianna nodded. "You are. But perhaps it is also your mind sorting information."

Will's mind worked around that one, before seizing on something he berated himself for having forgotten, even temporarily. "I can't be dreaming! I have to see James, to explain-"

"Explain what, child? Your curse?" Arianna said gently, arranging her skirts. Will sighed, tension seeping into the earth below him. "Very well. But I have to check if he's – if it-"

"James is alive and recovering."

Will didn't pause to question how she knew. "Thank God." If Jem was alive, Will could handle anything. As long as he was well.

Arianna read his face like the pages of a book. "Will, you have decide on a course of action, have you not?"

Will closed his eyes, the sun's last rays burning. "I have." The darkness allowed him to express his fears and hopes. "Can I really do it? Push all away, after so long of caring?"

Instead of answering, Arianna posed a series of questions. "Why did you defy Raziel?"

"To save James."

"Why did you become Parabatai?"

"To protect him, and repay my debt."

"What is the very nature of the Parabatai bond?"

Will had been drilled over and over by Raziel on every inch of the Shadowhunter way of life. However, he also knew through experience. Across space and time, men and women fought for each other, because of – "Trust. The necessity of survival. Love." Will's eyes snapped open, and he saw Arianna staring at him with hope. Two possibilities had opened up in his mind. One horrific, one a cooling relief to an eternal burn. "Does that mean I am killing James faster, or that because of the nature of being Parabatai, the effect is negated?"

Arianna took his hand in hers, her green eyes sad. "There is a fine line, you must walk the edge, or risk slipping into the abyss."

Will snorted. "You're very good at cryptic." But Will understood. He could have Jem to lean on, just as long as he kept distance. "So Jem is to be my sin?"

Arianna smiled gently at him, such kindness in her eyes that Will wondered if she herself had been one of the original angels.

"Not your sin, but your protector. You have been through so much, and there is yet more to come." Will put his hands flat on the ground, feeling the soft soil under his fingers; old as time, like him. Warmth from his skin seeped into the soil, and Will felt an odd sensation under his hand – like an insistent pushing. Will removed his hand and to his surprise saw a deep blue orchid rising up, catching the waning sun.

"How did I just-?"

Arianna bent over the flower to trace its delicate petals. "It is your subconscious, reminding you of something."

Even as Arianna spoke, images flickered through Will's head, replacing the field around them. Tall towers made of _adamas_ – it was in Idiris. A graveyard, hidden from plain sight. Rows and rows of headstones, so old the writing was nearly invisible and the ivy had wrapped around many of them, so they looked grown. The images focused. Names appeared. Barachiel, Selafiel, Casiel, Nakir – all Angels that Will had only heard of. They had died in the Great War that had been ended by Raziel and Jonathan Shadowhunter, five hundred years ago. The original angels. Next to them, unglamoured, was a list carved into stone of those that had died not long after – the newly made Nephilim. Will scanned the list, each familiar name like a spear into his heart. He had met almost all of them at one time or another. As the dates of the deaths became closer to his own ascension, Will began to look closely for his name. It was not there.

"This is a list of all deaths, isn't it?" Will said hollowly.

"Yes."

"Why am I not on here?" Will asked, not expecting an answer. He closed his eyes, and once he opened them, they were back in the field, though the sun had set and the stars had marked the sky, like holes pierced into black fabric. Having served its purpose, the orchid had withered and returned to the earth that had sustained it.

"Perhaps you did not die. Perhaps you were born."

Will's body jolted. "What?" Of course he had died. He had been Nephilim, and had died on earth and ascended to heaven. He had probably been one of the first. _Born? _The descendant of two of the original angels?

Suddenly Will's vision blurred. "What's happening?"

Arianna spoke quickly. "Your material body is waking. You must go. Be brave, sweetheart, and you will know the way."

Will was having trouble breathing. He felt as though he were fading, sense by sense. His sight had gone, and he could no longer properly feel the earth. "Who are you? How do you know?" Will cried out before his voice left.

He felt a warm hand on his arm. "Because I am your-"

Will blinked slowly as the familiar walls of his bedroom came into focus. The flickering light dancing on the walls told him it was night. Slowly Will's memories began to return. Skating on the river. Jem's sickness. Arianna. Falling at the steps of the Institute. Will sat up slowly, and the hand on his arm he'd assumed was Arianna's was in fact someone else entirely.

"James!" Will clasped his hand. "You're well!" Jem was seated in a chair next to his bed, apparently having waited for him to regain consciousness. He looked a little pale, but otherwise normal, silver hair obscuring his eyes for a moment as he nodded. "I am fine. Just my…illness. You, on the other hand," Jem said, the smallest smile lifting his lips, "Seem to make a habit of turning up half-dead."

Will sat up fully, drawing his hands back. It was time to face the truth, whether he wanted to or not. Jem deserved that, at least. "I… I apologise. When you needed me, I was not there and that goes against everything in the meaning of being Parabatai, and friendship. It was disgraceful of me, and I hope…" _Against all hope that ever was_ - "That you will forgive me."

"Will." Jem's voice was serious, soft. "Will, look at me."

He didn't want to. But that would be further proof of his cowardice. He had made a choice, and would face the consequences, like he had with Raziel. Jem waited until Will had met his silvery eyes before continuing. To Will's uncertain surprise, they held nothing but compassion. "I do not know why you fled, but I am sure it was for your own reasons. One day, when you are ready I'm sure you will be able to face them, but for now, it is fine that you did what you did. Besides," Jem said, "Parabatai are for life, which means I have to protect you just as much as you want to protect me from what is troubling you."

Will's mouth dropped, and for the first time in his life, made a promise he was bound by much more than honour to keep. "I swear on the Angel, I will not leave you in such a way again."

Jem stiffened. "Will, you cannot know what circumstances may fall on us-"

"No," Will said. "But I know that I am not worthy to be your friend and brother if I do act in such a way again." _I will no longer run._

"You have changed, Will." Jem observed as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I wish I could be sure it was for the better."

Arianna stared at Raziel through a tall but plain mirror at the back of an empty church. Hands on hips, she glared at his expressionless mask. "I will_ not _step down! I am not one of your soldiers, to be commanded."

Raziel burned, the personification of fire, destructive and unfeeling. "William must not find out." He looked sad for the briefest moment before the mask was slipped back into place. "Or what? You have to face the consequences, Raziel, like he is now."

"There is destiny, and then there is interference. You should not have shared what you know."

Arianna threw her hands up in frustration. "That boy was _breaking_. If I had not helped, heaven only knows what he would have done. And that _curse_! How could you be so heartless?" Arianna hurtled her arguments like knives at his image. She hoped to hurt him, but deep in her own heart she wanted to help him.

"We are all pawns of a greater plan. If I had not taken such actions, he would not have met you when he did."

Arianna sighed, resting her forehead on the glass. "Tell me this gets easier, Raziel."

Raziel put his right hand on the mirror, and she moved hers to match. If she pretended hard enough, she could almost feel his warmth.

"It will become easier when it is supposed to." Raziel paused. "Arianna?"

"Yes?"

"Please continue to look after him." Raziel said softly.

Arianna pulled back, never feeling the distance more than at times like this. "Always."

Will was lying on his bed, throwing a dagger up and catching it again, over and over using only the faint moonlight and his instincts. Something was eating away his relief at being reconciled with Jem, and it was not just the repulsion at the person he would have to show to most. His blood was in question – not even his human blood, that had been spilt here on earth, but his angelic blood that defined who and what he had been. _If it's blood… _A scrap of lore entered his mind. "The mixed blood ensured that they were welcome in neither heaven nor hell." Faeries. Will sat up, letting the dagger drop into the mattress. "I'll fix it later," Will muttered to himself, following what he was beginning to think of as routine. Will forsook his gear in favour of a brace of daggers secured around his hips and two arm sheaths. Will knew many tales about the fey, most of them involving the capture of humans. Some of it was about their court politics and allegiances, but very few involved their heritage. Their shared heritage.

Will closed the door behind him, then stopped, changing his mind about something. Slipping back inside, he found a scrap piece of paper under his bed and wrote a quick note. Walking soundlessly along the dark corridors, unlit and still, Will crouched and slid the note under a door. When he stood, Church's eyes were glowing at him in the dark.  
"Can I help you with something?" Will asked in the barest whisper. When the only answer was the twitch of his tail, Will walked down to the main doors, past the repeated motif of Raziel and the Mortal instruments. They barely bothered him anymore.

Will opened the door, flinching slightly at the sharp breeze. Looking over his shoulder, Will smiled wryly. "Are you coming with me, or will you stay to tell them where I've gone?" Church meowed once, eyes closing briefly. By the time they opened again, Will had closed the door behind him, and left the Institute behind.

Faeries valued strength, and if he knew how to act… The problem was, Will knew of no entrances to their court, only where he would find solitary fey that might tell him - Hyde Park. The watchers had not kept detailed records of Downworlders' affairs, and so Will knew only that which he had gleaned from observation and research.

Used to his night-wanderings, Will walked quickly past tall brick houses, curious of how the mundane inside lived with ignorance of the world around them. _Must be peaceful_.

Will had hoped to be back before sunrise. Though he supposed he could use his absence to build the foundations of the wall that would save their lives. From him. From Raziel's curse. _A drunken outing, perhaps?_

Will had expected the park to be silent as the grave as he came to the tall metal gates that were locked, and so was more than surprised when he heard violins and drums playing with all the joy and abandon of carelessness. Flares of white fire were intermittently thrown into the air, illuminating the rows of trees that hid the open expanse of grass. Will took a running jump to clear the fence and landed lightly on the other side. Then Will heard the laughter and the songs that went with the music.

Will walked towards it, hypnotised, his body moving without him. Behind a row of trees were dozens of faeries, those with flutes and drums arranged in a small semi-circle facing a much larger area where others danced and spun, with no regard for anything but the beat of their bare feet on the ground and the direction the music led them in. Fey too beautiful to be ever mistaken for human swirled around strange creatures – a woman with long bat wings had a beak instead of a mouth, and there were others with living vines coming out of their skin and others still that moved to fast to be identified, little more than breezes. Will had entered their spring revelries.

Will felt the compulsion to join them, forget everything and dance until his feet had worn away to noting. He stepped forward until he joined them, moving in the same rhythms. No one marked him, and he danced, thinking of nothing but the earthy smell in the air and the swirls of colour around him. Will couldn't have said how long he'd been there for when an odd burning on the inside of his arm clamoured for his attention, tearing him from the need to join them, and Will looked at his skin, where the mark for sight stood out starkly on his pale skin. Gradually, as though a haze were lifting, Will came back to himself, fear the first of his emotions to be restored. _I was nearly lost._ There was no doubt if he'd continued for much longer, he would have been enthralled, permanently bound to the fey for eternity – if they had let him survive for that long. Breathing heavily, Will turned and left the circle of dancers, fleeing into a path lined by two rows of trees in the hope of regaining his senses. Unfortunately, he was not alone.

A tall woman dressed in a dress of the deepest shade of green that was almost black, red hair tumbling down to the floor under a pearl circlet on her brow. Her eyes were ageless, and yet her presence was unmistakable.

"Your Highness." Will bent from the waist as he addressed the Queen of the fey. When he rose, she was no longer in front of him.

"I know you not, boy, yet you dance with my kind." The voice was a crystalline sound from behind him. Quelling the urge to draw his blades, Will turned slowly. "I meant no disrespect. Your music cannot be easily resisted." The Queen looked at him as though he were nothing more than dust in the air. "For one who means no disrespect, you do yourself an ill service by facing me with iron."

Will stiffened. He'd forgotten about his daggers. "They are merely protection from those who mean me ill outside these gates." The Queen trailed her slender fingers down the side of his face and the air around them became a degree colder. "There are few who could harm you, Shadowhunter." Again, she moved faster than Will could see and sat upon a newly-grown throne of branches and ivy a few feet away from him. "Why do you come here, on tonight of all nights?" Will took a deep breath. _I hate faeries._ "I need information." The Queen laughed, mocking. "Your precious Clave cannot tell you what you need to know?"

"It is of common interest to both of us, and they would not know." She was toying with him, trying to gain leverage, but Will had seen enough interactions with the fey to be able to hold his ground.

"I propose a trade, my lady." Will might have imagined it, but he was quite sure the Queen sat even straighter in her throne.

"What trade?"

"Information for the knowledge that is mine to give, and that no other else has." The Queen's eyes widened, and Will almost smiled. If information acted as currency then knowledge, particularly rare knowledge, was power.

"I will ask you again, Shadowhunter. What is it you want?"

"I want to know if it is possible for an angel to be born of two other angels, and have their memory removed. Also, how can a mind-block from an angel be negated?"

The Queen tilted her head, and Will could almost see the gears moving in her mind. "What would make you think I have that information?"

For a moment, Will was back in heaven, reciting what he had learned back to Raziel. "The mixed blood ensured that the fey were welcome in neither heaven nor hell. There has not been a new monarch of the fey in many centuries, and I thought you may recall something of your beginning."

The Queen sat still for several long moments, as though daring Will to break the silence, to show weakness first. He didn't, just waited as a cold wind swept through the trees, blowing his hair in front of his eyes and raising goosebumps on his arms.

"You are an oddity, Shadowhunter. Scared of what is above with no concern for the position you put yourself in. I suppose you would not consent to joining my court? Forgetting the world and joining us?"

Will shook his head. "It is an honour to be asked," He said carefully, knowing that an insult to the fey was the last thing many people ever did. "But I have matters that keep me among my own kind."

They Queen feigned disappointment, her porcelain skin still unchanged by expression. "Very well. You have chosen your path." She rose from the chair and with deliberate steps walked towards him and grasped his arm. "Come along." She ordered, and then the world blurred around them, slowly resolving into an underground cave, held up by tall white-stone pillars, shaped to look like flames. The only illumination came from a round pool of water at the far side of the cave. "Why are we here?" Will asked, his voice echoing off the walls, creating the image of trapped voices behind the walls. "For your answers. This is the Pool of the Fates, where the past, present and future are melded into one. They hold the memories of all, and the lives of none. It can make you wish you were dead or believe you are in paradise, and neither can be escaped. William Herondale, is it not?" The Queen released his arm, smiling cruelly. "I know about you. Fell from the sky with burned shoulders and no identity. One of mine saw you, lovely, and word passed quickly."

Will's instincts told him he was in danger, and he felt no reason to try to argue with them. "The recognition is appreciated, but if no deal is to be struck, I must leave." They were enclosed in a cave with no doors, windows or any other kind of escape route_. Time to think diagonally_.

The Queen stepped towards the pool, and it lit up, creating shadows in the wall and on her face, emphasising the unchanging nature of the Queen herself. "There is no love lost between the angels and I," She said softly, as though he were being privy to a secret. "For their actions of condemning us to this middle place, so we have no place of our own I wish them all dead." She smiled sweetly at Will. "That means you, too, exiled angel."

Will drew his daggers, one in each hand. _I'm about to fight the Queen of the fey, and most likely break the Accords in the process. Excellent. _

"Oh, child, do you really think you will win against me?" The Queen laughed again, and waved her hand, a sudden pressure bending Will's hand back until he let the dagger drop, or let his wrist break. The dagger hit the floor with a metallic clang.

The Queen waved her hand again and Will was flung black, only his reflexes saving him from falling head first into the pool by tucking his feet beneath him to hit the wall first, and so use the momentum to leap over it and try to distract the Queen while he thought of a way to escape with his life, if not also his limbs. The Queen did not appear amenable to letting him out of her sight. They stood face to face, Will out of breath while the Queen stood in the dim light as if she were doing no more than watching a play made for her entertainment. She held out her hands palm up and Will tensed, expecting another onslaught, but instead a long sword materialised in her hands, the hilt a design of open leaves. "No shred of iron taints this blade," The Queen said evenly, holding it up, then pointing it at his throat. "Farewell, Shadowhunter. Give my regards to hell."

Will looked at the blade, closed his eyes, and stepped back into the pool of the fates. As soon as his body hit the water, he realised it was not water at all, but energy that had no form or structure. It became a barrier over his head like a cage, preventing any hope of escape. Will looked and saw nothing but shadows, tried to breathe but inhaled nothing.

Will tried to scream, but no sound existed.

_What have I done? _


	5. Dreams of the past

An abyss.

A void.

An empty space.

Will could think of a thousand words to describe where he was, but none would help him return to the normal world. The only change from the unending blackness at first had been the move from silence to soft, whispering voices that seemed to have no single point of origin, but came from everywhere. They called his name, said they knew who he was, what he had done, and how he would die. They said he would die soon.

Will believed them. He bowed his head and tried to block them out, but little helped. The images he conjured of Jem and Tessa were crowded out by white cliffs and rain, and a terrible fear. This torment lasted what felt like hours, until the whispers were drowned out by the roar of a demon, and suddenly there was colour.

Black and red scales flashed into Will's vision, a dragon-like demon with red-membraned wings and six legs, each supported by a paw with four claws. The beast's head alone was larger than a stagecoach. Will swore and leapt to his feet, drawing a dagger from his arm sheath. _I cannot die here._ Will thought fiercely, moving slowly in a circle around the demon while it seemed to be sniffing for something. _Not while I have people to protect._

The demon, however, did not seem to see him. In fact, it opened its jaw to breathe fire in the space next to Will.

That was enough to give him pause. _What on earth…? _ The flames seemed to stretch around the darkness, a source of light that shed no illumination, only gave substance to the shadow. Ducking as the flames came round to him, Will also realised that they generated no heat. "You're an illusion!" Will exclaimed, more surprised at himself for not thinking it earlier than at the possibility of it happening. The moment he identified the demon, it seemed to acknowledge his existence by opening its wings and, half in the air, bringing one clawed paw down, and Will realised he had again made a fatal mistake. The claws ripped into his right shoulder and raked across to his opposite hip, and the claw came away stained red. Will dropped to his knees, landing on cold shadows. The loss of blood would have made him weak, but it was the burning in his veins that let Will know there was poison on the demon's claws. _My stele…_ Will tried to reach a pocket in his jacket, biting back screams as the movements opened his wounds further.

Suddenly, the blackness became an open sky, and Arianna with a pair of snow-white wings on her back, came hurtling from the sky and slayed the demon with the glowing seraph blade in her hand.

_Oh, God, I'm hallucinating_. Will would have laughed, had his situation been not been so tragic. Through his blurring vision, Will could see her dark hair fan out as the demon broke into shards like a shattered mirror. She landed in front of Will, who by that time had drawn marks that had stopped the bleeding, but also sealed in the poison.

"Oh, sweetheart." Arianna said sadly, dropping to her knees to. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Will lifted up one side of his mouth in a small smile. "Unless you set that demon on me, which I rather hope you didn't, then you have no need to apologise." Will jerked as the poison seemed to attack his lungs, burning them up from the inside out. "If you are here, and not my delusional mind," Will choked out, "Could you…find James and tell him… I'm sorry." The last words slurred as Will fell, saved from hitting the floor only by Arianna's arms. "Tell him yourself." Arianna said, placing a hand over his heart, over Raziel's rune. Suddenly a burning more fierce than the poison entered his body, and Will felt like he was being torn apart from the two forces warring inside his skin. Arianna seemed to glow, her green eyes luminescent. "This won't take long." The fire spread, slowly, painfully burning out the poison, more and more spilling down from Raziel's rune. After long minutes of laboured breathing when Will was sure he was turning to ashes, he could no longer feel the black burning of the poison, and the fire was rescinding back to his heart. Will moved his shoulder experimentally, and was astonished when no pain came from it. "Thank you." He said to Arianna, no longer caring if he was dead and this was all an illusion.

Arianna shook her head. "It was all you, Will. I just reminded you what to do."

"I did not know how to do _that_." Will said, sitting up, "Any more than I know how turn myself into a duck and live in the nearest pond."

Arianna shook her head. "You did, and I can show you how. This place shows the past, present and future. Your entire timeline."

"Does it show how I can escape?" Will asked, already planning on covering the entire city in iron and steel to truly get revenge on the fey Queen.

Arianna seemed to read his mind, or perhaps just his expression. "I can help with the escape, and soon. But first, it is time that you know your inheritance." Arianna looked over her shoulder as though something had caught her attention. "We must hurry though." She held out her hands, like the first time in the abandoned church.

Will hesitated before he took them. How could this take precedence over returning to the Institute? As soon as their skin touched, Will felt a shock run through him as Arianna's voice issued a warning. "Be careful. All you will see is your past, and because the effects have touched you once, they can easily do so again."

The endless black shadows changed into the grassy planes and mid-blue sky of his home and a sense of longing grew in Will's heart. He almost didn't notice that he was both standing next to Arianna, and across from her too. The Arianna opposite him wore the pale robes of angels and was sitting with Raziel, laughing over something. To Will's amazement, Raziel laughed too, changing his entire face._ I've never seen him smile, let alone…. _Will turned to the Arianna next to him, the plainest sadness on her face. Will took her hand, hoping to offer comfort "Who were you?" He asked softly as the memory-Arianna stood, starting to dance. "One of the original angels. One of the very first." Arianna whispered, reaching her free arm out to them. A single tear traced down her face and as soon as it hit the green floor, the memory shifted like a fog being blown away by the wind.

Will kept a hold of Arianna's hand as memories surrounded him. Arianna and Raziel stood by the tall

ice-blue waterfall that kept the plants alive, feeding water throughout heaven. "Must we go to war?" Arianna asked, watching – impossibly – a noticeably younger Raziel pace up and down. Will blinked in surprise - he had been much freer with his emotions then.

"There is no other choice. The demons will take over soon, and make Earth their personal wasteland if we do nothing." His wings opened in agitation, gold filling the sky. Will noticed tiny details, like they were barefoot, and Raziel wore his hair longer, held back in a crystal clasp. Such things made it so much more real.

"How long will it take us to prepare?" Raziel asked, stopping in front of Arianna, who tilted her head thoughtfully. "Two days." She replied, stretching to kiss Raziel on the mouth. "The angels I've been training have worked hard. They'll be ready." Will wasn't sure what to be more shocked at – Arianna had been Raziel's partner, or that Will had taken over her position as trainer.

The surroundings blurred, and Will turned to Arianna. "Where do I come into this?" He asked confusedly. Arianna smiled, so sadly. "You were already there, though we didn't know it at the time."

_I was already where? Among the angels readying for war? _

The new scene showed Arianna and Raziel dressed in silvery armour, only their heads and wings bare. Behind them was a legion of angel standing in ranks that stretched further than the eyes could see, all armed with seraph blades and bows. There must have been thousands if not a million of them. As they stood on the very same precipice that Raziel had thrown Will from, something tickled at the back of his mind, becoming more and more insistent. Finally, it clicked.

"Arianna, this is the start of the Great War over five hundred years ago, isn't it?"

She nodded, and Will's heart forgot to beat, just for a moment. The many in front of him would die, almost all of them. Arianna's hands curled into fists by her side as Raziel turned, raising his arm and speaking to his army, watching their cheers and battle cries as Raziel led them off the cliff into the demon-befouled earth. The sky turned black, and no stars shone, as though they were already in mourning. Perhaps they had not even been made yet.

This time, the world did not blur. It burned.

Will watched, standing on the blackened ground as angels and demons fought twenty, thirty feet above him, so great in number they blocked out any light the sun may have shod. Despite this, Will could still see everything with perfect clarity. Demons of every kind from all dimensions fought, from the weakest _oni_ to the strongest shapeshifting demons. The angels they faced were never still for more than a minute, constantly shifting their positions in the sky. Their wings were all colours, not just the red of soldiers. They used their bows to shoot down earth-bound demons while staying airborne to outmanoeuvre those with wings.

Will flinched as the body of an angel fell, slumped to the floor, bleeding from the chest with half of his right wing missing. Will rushed forward, frantically searching for his stele until Arianna held his shoulder, pulling him back. "You cannot help him. He has been long dead, and it was his destiny to die this way."

Will wrenched away from Arianna, desperate to help, but it was too late – the angel had turned to ash.

"Wars are terrible, terrible things Will. Always remember that." Arianna murmured, and watched with him as the demons were slain alongside angels.

"_Why do we train ourselves as warriors when we aren't at war with anyone?" _ Will had once asked Raziel.

"_So we are ready when the end comes." _If there had ever been another war like this, Will was sure, through his building anger, that the end would have been inevitable. Looking up, Will realised the fighting above him had cleared, and the very same dragon-demon that had accosted him earlier was back with a vengeance, and looking for blood. Will recognized Arianna only by the white of her wings. A blue seraph blade drawn, her face a blank mask. She knew what had to be done, but didn't like it. The dragon roared and Arianna flew forward, attempting to sever its head. The demon swerved, wings fanning out to stay aloft. It opened its mouth, bathing the world in fire, and the flames swept harmlessly to either side of her outstretched hand.

"Tell me you win this." Will muttered to Arianna.

"This is your story, not mine." She replied quietly, head down. "I am here, in this form. That alone should answer your question."

Will returned his gaze to the fight, guessing at the result but dreading the sight. The demon raked a claw across her body, from shoulder to hip, and Will felt his same injury flare in recognition. Arianna succeeded in separating one of the demon's legs from its body before she fell. Will's instinct took over as she fell, blood following her like rain, to catch her, already forgetting her admonition from only a moment before. "Arianna!" Will's cry was joined by Raziel's which was much deeper and filled with a heavier grief. Raziel caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her close.

"Raziel…" Arianna looked up in gratefulness that was plain at any distance. "Above you!" A hoard of malphas demons were only a second away from them. Raziel lifted his sword and shouted a word in seraphic that reduced them all to nothingness. He carried Arianna up, out of the fray and way out of Will's vision, leaving him alone with the present Arianna, who looked distraught. Before Will had the chance to say anything, they were moved to a wide, grassy space back in heaven. The sky had lightened to the palest blue, meaning the turmoil below had been going on for hours if not days.

Raziel had laid Arianna on the soft grass, her blood staining his armour scarlet. "What is it, Arianna? Why can't you heal it?"

Arianna titled her head towards him. "Poison," She said softly. "Dragon demon. But forget me-"

Raziel snorted derisively until she finished. "There's someone else you should worry about." And she passed her hand over her blood-stained abdomen, and Raziel's expression changed to a cross between delight and fear. "You're _pregnant_?"

Will's mouth dropped, and he turned to the present Arianna. "That's what you were going to tell me, in the dream. That you're-"

The past Arianna nodded, forestalling Will's words and Raziel's reply. "I knew you wouldn't let me fight if I told you earlier."

Raziel growled. "Of course not. But…" He dropped to his knees beside her. "I know of no cure for the poison. Ari, please, don't…"

Arianna reached up and rested her hand on Raziel's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere just yet, sweetheart." Her deathly pallor belied her confident words.

"Don't you dare leave me." Raziel whispered as Arianna lost consciousness, the only indicator of remaining life the soft rise and fall of her chest.

Raziel walked slowly around Arianna, drawing a rune with his fingers to the north, east, south and west. They began to grow, walls of silver and gold-threaded glass as Raziel pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"What is that?" Will asked Arianna quietly, as though raised voices would shatter the glass and Raziel's actions.

Arianna reached out a hand but stopped just short of touching the surface of the barrier. "It's a time-suspension shield. It slows the time of the person inside to such a degree that they can stay that way for years. Raziel… He searched for a cure for me." As the four walls grew inwards and joined soundlessly at the top, the colours blurred, changing into white cliffs and sand before coming back into focus on Raziel. This time, Will could not hear the words. Arianna looked around her. "The pool of the fates was not made with prolonged memories in mind," She explained quickly, as Raziel flew to earth, landing in an empty field next to a silvery lake. "Your past and future and mixing together. There is not long left for this one."

A tall, dark-haired man had approached Raziel, handing him an old leather-bound book. "Jonathan Shadowhunter." Arianna filled in the gaps. "The first of the Nephilim. That book," Arianna motioned to the one that Raziel had lifted and, after a flash, had been transported to heaven. In its place appeared the Gray book with runes that Raziel had gifted the Nephilim with. "Had a possible cure, to save one of us at least. Raziel was grateful to Jonathan for this, and also swayed by his argument that another war between angels and demons would tear the earth apart, so it would be better to have humans to aid them, and he agreed."

Will watched in awe as Raziel produced what would become known as the Mortal Cup, and nicked his wrist, letting blood flow into the goblet. Jonathan Shadowhunter did the same, and lifted it to his lips. Will could see the man become a true Nephilim – his eyes widened with new-found power, and dozens of runes marked his skin: sight, speed, balance. Unlike Will's own runes, they didn't seem to hurt when first made.

Jonathan Shadowhunter was surrounded by a blue flash as Raziel slid _Maellartach_ from its scabbard on his back, plunging it into the ground where it sank in five inches. The wings that made the hilt and guard seemed to stretch, growing, before returning to their normal shape. Raziel's lips moved – a warning? A farewell? Will couldn't see through the dust that was thrown up by Raziel's push from the earth. Arianna and Will followed him up to the same isolated place as before, where Raziel knelt by the past Arianna, who looked no different.

"I was there for three months." Arianna whispered. By now her green dress was tattered and dusty from all the events seen again, her expression becoming sadder by the moment.

Raziel drew runes of opening on the glass and it began to melt, tiny silver rivulets falling to the ground like rain. The past Arianna drew in a slow, deep breath, blinking confusedly. "Raziel?" She said weakly, reaching out her hand for him.

Raziel took it between his. "I'm here. I have something that can save you." The image flickered, blackness cutting through them briefly, before drawing back to show Raziel holding the book that Jonathan Shadowhunter had given him. The hope on the past-Arianna's face was heart-breaking. Will snuck a look at the present-Arianna and flinched. Her face was exactly the same. Will had considered his curse a terrible thing that forced him to be alone, but now he had seen someone else's sorrow, his own had lessened.

The sorrow on both Arianna's faces as Raziel shook his head. "Only one of you."

"The child." Past-Arianna said immediately, sitting up. The quick movement was too much for her weakened body, and she began to cough. "Save…the child."

Raziel closed his eyes, near-invisible tears making identical trails on his face. "Arianna," He said, his almost inaudible voice rough. "I'm begging you. Do not do this. I can't…"

Arianna pushed herself onto her knees. "Of course you can, sweetheart." She wrapped her arms around him. "Know these things when you think of me." She murmured, her own body becoming less able to live. "I love you more now than ever before, and I have no regrets. When you look at this boy, you will see me in him, and I will have never left you."

"Ari…" Raziel sat back on his heels, pain lining every thread of his body. Arianna reached across him and placed the book in his hands. "Be the man you were made to be. Just… don't forget me." Arianna said as her arms slackened and she fell, unconscious.

"Ari!" Raziel exclaimed, taking her in his arms. "Arianna!" She did not stir. Raziel lifted the book, turning the pages feverishly until he reached a marked page and began to speak in an old language, older than time itself. The words, though unrecognizable carried the meaning of healing and renewal.

Suddenly Will was surrounded by blackness again. "No!" He yelled in frustration. Flickers of training the Mists and his Parabatai ceremony with Jem blurred into a strange-coloured fire and black gear, then back to his own training. Will drove a dagger from his pocket into the ground, the only blank space, desperate to find some stability. "It's no use." Arianna's voice came from behind him. Tears marked her own face, and she shook her head. "The pool cannot change its design. Come, take my hand." Will rose from the floor and curled his hand around hers. Arianna spoke in Seraphic, a language no longer strange from her, and soon the darkness was replaced by the stone walls that Will had fought the Queen in, which was slowly replaced by the trees of Hyde Park which was thankfully free of the fey. Arianna lost her balance, stumbling against a tree.

"Mother!" Will rushed over to help her.

Arianna smiled, a tiny ray of sun in a storm. "You make me feel old, Will."

Will's lips turned up in answer as he helped her to a nearby bench. _Another iron. Take that manipulative faerie bastards. _

"I still don't understand." Will said, sitting next to her. His heritage alone was unbelievable –_Raziel is my father!_ - but he didn't know how it would help him protect them from him.

Arianna leaned back, clearly drained. "Raziel never was good at losing. He saved you, Will, but the poison had already affected you."

Will sighed. "My wings."

Arianna nodded. "And I… well, the fool gave up some of his immortality for me to be able to reside here as a ghost for such a long time. It takes too much energy to exist up there," Arianna gestured upwards and Will knew she was referring to their past home. "So I must stay here, on earth."

Will didn't know what to say, which was a first. Arianna continued, though she was gradually becoming more transparent. "What I'm trying to say is that Raziel may have taken your wings, but it is impossible that he took your soul. You were born of two full-blooded angels and that is part of your very being, as much a part of you as bones or blood. When you truly need it, your blood and power will come through."

By this time, she was nearly completely insubstantial, and at Will's concerned look, she said "I just need to rest. I'll see you again, my son."

And so Will was left alone in the park where in the space of a few hours he had nearly lost himself, and found who he really was. "Look at me daydreaming," He muttered ruefully, standing. "I can reminisce later." With that Will set of at a run back to the Institute, a place that between the near-death experiences and laughter had become home.

Jem was pacing. Up and down his room with Church perched on his bed, watching him with curious eyes. "Something's wrong," He said aloud. "I can feel it. " Jem passed a hand over the Parabatai rune, just like he had when he'd woken up in a cold sweat some hours ago. Picking up the note Will had left for him, Jem read it out to Church. "_This time, I'm not running away. I've gone to find something that could help all of us. Should be back soon. Will."_ Jem stopped pacing and sat down, reaching out to scratch under Church's head. "What am I going to do with him, hmm? If he snuck out in the night, then he's been gone for eight hours at least. Anything could have happened." Church meowed, then suddenly cut off, leaping off the bed and through Jem's half-open door. Jem set the note on the bed and followed, jogging to keep up. Church led him around staircases and corridors until they reached one of the rooms reserved for official meetings.

Jem paused as Church stopped, sitting to clean his paws. Charlotte and…Yes, that was the voice of Benedict Lightwood. Surely he wasn't causing more trouble?

"As you know, this is an important occasion for _all_ of us." Benedict emphasised the fact that it was not only the London Institute that would be judged. But in what?

"You need not remind me," Charlotte's voice replied, level but tired. "There has been little time lately to organise this gathering. Co-ordinating the arrival of dozens of Shadowhunters from all over the world is no mean feat." For a second Jem was startled – what terrible event had happened that required so much assistance? The he shook his head. _Of course. _Jem almost laughed in relief, then realised he was, in fact, still eavesdropping, Church curled around his ankles. Every year the Shadowhunters that led the main Institutes around the world met up to discuss any major events that had occurred, as well as sharing information and potential changes. Every fifth year it was held in Idris, but this was the fourth, and it was the turn of the London Institute to host the event. Charlotte had mentioned it some weeks ago, but pursuing Mortmain had pushed it to the back of all their minds.

"Perhaps you ought to let others handle this aspect?" Benedict practically purred, and Jem frowned in distaste.

"Your offer is appreciated Benedict, but unnecessary. We are more than capable of handling this." Charlotte's cool decline brought a smile to Jem's lips again.

"Then shall I tell the others where they should prepare the portals to?" Benedict's tone of deference sounded sincere, at least.

"The cliffs of Dover for midday, the cove most shielded from incoming ships."

Jem understood her reasoning - dozens of people appearing seemingly from nowhere would certainly be of note to passing mundanes.

"Very well." Benedict's voice sounded a lot closer than before, and Jem had a momentary surge of panic as he realised he would be caught in the less than ideal position of snooping, particularly when he should be looking for Will.

Jem quickly detangled himself from Church and stepped soundlessly behind the opening door.

Jem held his breath as Benedict paused, but he continued after a brief moment, walking towards the entrance with fast-paced steps.

As soon as he was out of sight, Jem sighed. Charlotte had so much to do these days, and a great deal of that was unjustly placed.

"You look like you're following in my footsteps, Jem. I take it as a compliment, but I'm not sure Tessa will approve." Jem jumped at Will's voice, and turned to see his Parabatai, dishevelled and dusty but with a light in his eyes that seemed to animate his every motion.

"Come along," Will said, a touch of seriousness in his voice. "We have to talk to Charlotte about this gathering."

Jem paused, not to wonder how he knew, but to wonder- "What is to discuss?"

Will seemed to stop completely, the light dimming. "Mortmain will be there." He said, voice barely above a whisper. "And he will bring his clockwork army."


	6. With open arms

"It's impossible." Charlotte laid her hands flat on the darkwood table for support as she stood. Her pregnancy was beginning to show, and now more than ever Will wished he could bring good news rather than pain.

"Unfortunately, it's not. It's the perfect time and occasion – all of our leaders gathered in one place, relatively unprotected, and Mortmain would have the element of surprise." Will paused. "Murdering the leaders of all the major Institutes would leave the other Shadowhunters vulnerable and weak, and Mortmain knows it." He had figured it out on the journey here. The future he'd been shown had been severely fragmented, but Will had slowly put the pieces together. The white cliffs hadn't made sense until Will had remembered Charlotte referring to them when talking about the gathering at Dover.

"It does make sense." Jem said from behind him, troubled. "Even with our combined strength, it would be a slaughtering ground."

Charlotte shook her head. "It will not come to that. We must cancel it, move it elsewhere. Here perhaps. I will not lead us to our death."

Will thought quickly, bringing every piece of combat tactics he'd ever been taught and tried to apply it. "No, wait. So many using portals to arrive here would attract unwanted attention. The original course of action… may be a situation we can use to our advantage." Will paced while he talked. "Mortmain doesn't know that we know-"

"Nor do we know how you know." Jem murmured so only Will could hear. Will flashed him a guilty smile. "Later."

Raising his voice to normal, he continued. "So we could perhaps set a trap beforehand? Magnus Bane may be persuaded to gather other warlocks to aid us. We could set up our own measures too, like a Malachi configuration, or-"

"A rune net." Charlotte finished, hope making her stand straighter. "Excellent." She began penning a letter, most likely to Magnus.

Jem tugged Will to the back of the room, among the upholstered spare chairs and dusty books. "We don't know where he'll choose to strike."

Will shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. "That's why it has to be more than one warlock, and all of us." Jem was silent for several moments and when Will looked back at him, he found himself on the receiving end of a long, considering look.

"What?" Will asked, for the briefest moment feeling as though Jem knew everything, from the moment he'd fallen to now. The grey clouds outside covered the weak sun, and Will's heart forgot to beat.

"You've changed again, William." Jem said quietly, then a smile released the tension in Will's chest. "Soon I'll not be able to recognise you for love nor money."

Will laughed. "Don't start writing me off just yet, Jem. Besides, I rather think that this-"

"Will," Charlotte said, and Will broke off to return to her. "Would you mind taking this to Magnus? He seems fond of you, and you were successful in persuading him to help at New Year's."

Will nodded, taking the missive. He looked to Jem as Charlotte excused herself to find Henry. "Care to join me?"

Jem clapped his shoulder. "My apologies, Herondale. I have something I need to do." As Jem walked out of the room, Will was once again alone. He slumped into the chair that Charlotte had vacated, leaning back and closing his eyes. So much had happened in the last few hours, and it was unbelievable._ I have a mother, and my father-! _"Raziel."

Every harsh thing Raziel had ever said to him, Will thought over again. _Maybe he was trying to push me to be better? _Will laughed under his breath. _Probably just despairing at me. _Will had never made it easy for him, but then again it can't have been easy to take the actions he did. Throwing the only remainder of the one you loved out of Heaven. "Raziel, if you're listening, please don't let them fail. Protect them against Mortmain." Will said into the air, and when he opened his eyes, Will would have sworn that the air shimmered in front of him. Standing, he twirled his stele between his fingers like a baton.

Magnus would require a certain amount of persuasion to convince him to spearhead this venture, and Will knew he had the walk from here to Woolsey Scott's residence where Magnus was last rumoured to be staying to figure it out. _I'll improvise._ Will set off, narrowly avoiding getting bitten by Church on his way out.

It was ridiculously early when the knocking on the door roused Magnus from a rather entertaining dream involving a fountain and tinsel. Magnus groaned and tugged the pillow next to him over his head. Woolsey was away on business and had taken the footman with him, so he was alone. _Maybe if I wait long enough, they'll go by themselves…_ Magnus thought, just as the knocking increased in intensity.

"Oh, very well." He said, blearily getting out of bed, forgetting he was only in night-trousers, chest bare and hair a mess. Navigating the dim corridors mostly by memory, Magnus tugged open the door, and was mildly surprised to see Will Herondale standing on his doorstep, looking almost as untidy as he felt. Magnus tilted his head to the side. There was something different about him… like he had been a dying ember and now was a thriving flame. "What can I do for you?" Magnus asked pointedly. Pretty or not, he was still there indecently early. The sky was only just lighting up, and few ventured onto the streets.

Will looked at him levelly, the smallest smile on his face that hinted at a mystery dying to be unravelled. "Can we talk inside? This isn't exactly common knowledge."

Magnus sighed, turning without replying, but leaving the door ajar. He began walking and heard the Nephilim follow, nudging the door closed. _Good. At least there shouldn't be any more visitors for a while. _

Magnus walked to the front parlour, a large room with a marble fireplace on the far wall, ancient tapestries covering what little space was left by bookshelves stretching as high as the celling. Clicking his fingers, Magnus summoned a blazing fire that immediately heated the chilly room_. I think I'll move to Barcelona in the near future._ Magnus mused as Will shed his coat, throwing it on one of the two sofas in the room. _It is certainly warmer than London._ Magnus settled himself on a lone armchair and waited.

"What would you do if you wanted to get rid of a nest of ants?"

The odd question startled Magnus into a quick response. "Hot water over the colony. But please," Magnus said, somewhat strained, "Tell me you did not seek out my assistance for pest control."

Will laughed, an enchanting sound that Magnus made sure not to show he noticed. The Will he'd dealt with about the decorations for the New Year's event had been a sombre thing, pushed to annoyance but not joy. "A pest of sorts."

Will handed Magnus a letter and went on to explain how he wished Magnus to round up a group of other warlocks – as if it wasn't difficult enough to find even one other who would willingly work for the Clave – and create a trap for Mortmain so unexpected he'd walk straight into it.

"What do you think?" He finished, looking hopefully at Magnus with those exquisite eyes.

"That you will be taking an awful lot of risks." Magnus replied, trying to tug his hair into some sort of order.

"But are you going to stand by us?" Will persisted, leaning forward. While listening, Magnus had been thinking through the points Will had forgotten – loopholes, weaknesses, anything that Mortmain could exploit.

"I'd want a ten percent increase in my fee." Magnus warned, resting his elbows on his silk-clad knees. "Risking life and limb isn't cheap, you know."

Will nigh on bounced out of his seat, and Magnus stifled a laugh, muting it into a small cough. _He's_ _like a new foal. _

"My thanks," Will said, already halfway out of the room. "You'll be coming with us through the portals to Dover, then."

"Oh how I look forward to it." Magnus said dryly, but the truth was, the boy's energy was infectious. _I think I'll wear purple_, Magnus decided, watching Will race past the window back to the Institute. Purple seemed to show hope to him. _Purple with diamonds._

Then, remembering what time it was, Magnus made his way back to the borrowed room, sliding back under the covers with only a twinge of anxiety to disturb him. He hoped that these Shadowhunters knew what they were doing – few Downworlders were fond of them, but under their watch life was gradually becoming kinder to his kind. Magnus's last thought as he drifted off to sleep was that the winter was finally succumbing to spring.

"It's time." Charlotte said, calling the rest of the group to order. As one, a hushed silence fell. Magnus, who was putting the finishing touches on a portal etched into the wall of the Institute's courtyard, raised an eyebrow. "The only time I've seen so many so silent." Magnus observed quietly to the Warlock beside him, an old friend going by the name of Ambrose for the last few years. Ambrose grinned, his long black tail flicking behind him. Charlotte had wanted to pull Ragnor Fell out of observation in York, but Henry had counselled against it – he seemed rather determined to ensure their weakest flank was the one that Mortmain was sure to take action against. Though there really were a lot of them – the usual suspects that lived in the London Institute, but also the Lightwoods, a rather imposing woman whom Magnus understood to be Charlotte's aunt; the Penhallows and others that he couldn't remember the name of if his life depended on. All in all there were about two dozen of them dressed in finery that concealed so many weapons Magnus was quite sure they had emptied the entire armoury.

Benedict Lightwood stepped forward, and Magnus tried to stifle the distaste he knew would show on his face. The Shadowhunters hadn't said a thing, but Downworlders had their own sources of information, and Benedict Lightwood's exploits could have filled a volume on their own.

"At last."

Magnus and Ambrose stepped back as the portals began to lose definition. The pale bricks covered with ivy blurred and began to fade, replaced by a swirl of blackness that announced the portal's opening. The mass of Shadowhunters broke into two groups, the sheer number of them meaning two portals for the sake of stability. They started filing through, and Magnus felt the tiny drains on his energy. As the lines thinned, he watched as James Carstairs led Tessa through, and saw Will hesitate before stepping through Ambrose's portal. Magnus's own was finally free of people, so he himself stepped through to the other side, closing the portal carefully behind him.

Will emerged from the portal shortly after Jem, feeling slightly off-balance, as though he'd drunk too much. The feeling passed, and Will took a moment to emulate the others and take stock of their surroundings. They were perched on an uneven edge of the cliff, covered in long grasses and with a good view of the sheer drop that stretched for hundreds of feet below them. White waves to match the chalky cliff-face lapped at smaller rocks below, creating a constant sound that rivalled the whistling breeze.

A fulmar flew across the clear sky, voicing its opinion at the many new additions to the scenery before coasting over the sea and disappearing into the distance. "It's beautiful." Will's heard Tessa's voice and turned to look as she stared out across the sparkling blue water, holding her hair against the wind, yellow dress waving around her ankles. "Have you come this way before?" Will asked, curiosity breaking through his tension of their purpose. Magnus and Ambrose were already some way inland, instructing Shadowhunters where to put down marks.

"No," Tessa said softly. "The boat I came on arrived at Southampton. I do wish we'd arrived here though."

"The clear skies are unusual, I'm afraid." Jem said, and Will winced as he recalled a shipwreck some decades ago due to a storm hitting the coastline.

A bored-sounding voice behind them said, "How much more time do you plan to waste by sightseeing?" Will bit his tongue as Jem shot him a warning look. He knew that he ought to be polite, but something about Gabriel struck him as altogether too proud and condescending.

_I can do polite._ "Terribly sorry," Will said easily. "Next time we'll be sure to attract attention by ordering others around."

Jem sighed as Gabriel's face flushed. "The warlocks required further assistance." He said shortly, and turned to mutter "Though help from you would be less useful than asking for help from a mongrel-"

Jem grabbed at his sleeve as Will began loosening the dagger in a sheath around his forearm. "Not now, Will. We have more important things to concentrate on."

Will growled, but left the dagger where it was. "One day he'll be brought down a peg or seven." If Will ever returned home, he would personally search the archives to find the nastiest non-fatal curse he could, just for Gabriel. Tessa had begun walking ahead of them, manoeuvring between the rocks hidden beneath the grass. She turned back to wave them over, and just for a moment, with the sun behind her and the wind blowing her hair back, Tessa was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

Will hung back, letting Jem and Tessa lead on.

"You don't know how lucky you are to have each other," Will murmured to them, lowering his gaze to the grass obscuring his feet. He might have stayed there forever, growing into the earth.

"Will!" Tessa called out to him, drawing his attention to the present. "Is something wrong?" Jem stood beside her, the same question in his expression.

"It's nothing." Will replied, setting off at a run to join them. He'd caught himself questioning his role more and more since Arianna had shared her memories. Since he'd discovered who he was. Then he forgot all about roles and gaped at the progress.

A rectangular area roughly the size of a cathedral had been marked out as Mortmain's most likely landing point, with a Shadowhunter at each corner.

The two warlocks paced the perimeter on opposite sides, stopping every twenty feet to mark the ground. As they chanted, a red blaze fired into the air, a mirror of the seals placed on the ground – a pentagon surrounded by circles made of written Chthonic symbols. The Shadowhunters did similar, creating smaller traps, less invasive than Malachi configurations that would have used noticeable seraph blades.

"What are they doing?" Tessa asked, appearing fascinated by their work. It was Jem who answered, taking her hand and walking towards a small group of Shadowhunters who were organising the forming of defences. "They're making traps for Mortmain – binding, blocking and containing to start with." Will followed, thinking how many runes he could have contributed that could have helped. Sliding beside Tessa, Will took on a wry tone. "They've tried most of them on me."

"Liar." Jem replied fondly, adding to Tessa "As much as we'd have liked to, though." Tessa laughed as they crossed the greenery, coming up behind Charlotte as she watched over the cliff for early arrivals of visiting Shadowhunters.

"How is it going, Charlotte?" Jem asked, and Charlotte turned to them, one hand resting on a seraph blade and the other shading her eyes from the sun that was already beginning to be covered by grey clouds.

"Quite well," She answered. "We shall have enough traps set to hopefully immobilise the clockwork creatures, and prevent Mortmain escaping once he has arrived."

"You will not kill him?" Tessa asked steadily, and Will could hear the tension under the question. Her motivation had changed since the death of her brother. Will had seen it in her insistence to be present where Mortmain might also be. Will empathized sincerely – not knowing what you were ate away at you, like some disease that is intangible as smoke.

Charlotte shook her head. "It is not our place to judge his crimes. That is a matter for the Clave."

"Gabriel said we were needed?" Will said, almost but not quite succeeding in keeping the menace out of his voice, because Charlotte gave him the same despairing look Jem had.

"It would be much appreciated if you could help the Penhallows at the North-West edge of the barrier. I would go myself, but Henry insisted I not strain myself." Charlotte said, looking to the heavens as though for strength.

"Henry has your health at heart." Jem reminded her, and Will saw his hand unconsciously brush Tessa's arm in farewell. Will swallowed, and began to make his way over the slight incline of the slope over to where they were needed.

"Will!" Jem called out, and he slowed his pace to let Jem catch up. "Are you alright? You seem distant today."

Will shook his head. "I am fine. Just all this-" He motioned around him, at the groups of Shadowhunters in threes and fours marking up ground, putting glamours of grass over the burns that the runes made on the grass. It wouldn't do to have Mortmain aware of them beforehand.

"I know." Jem murmured. "It's like the preparation for a brewing storm." He shivered as the wind picked up, yet Will knew it wasn't just because of the weather. Jem was bracing for a fight – the shadowed heartbeat Will could feel in his own veins when he listened told him that Jem had taken a substantial dose of his silver powder, and that he thought this would be the end of it all.

"Worried about Tessa?" Will asked, because he knew Jem's quiet resentment of his medicine, and because he himself wanted Tessa nowhere near the conflict.

"Yes." Jem answered, and his smile acquired a rueful slant. "She refused to stay at the Institute when I asked. I understand though, what it is like to be left worrying and unable to help those you care about."

"Ah, but that's what Parabatai are for." Will said, nudging Jem with his elbow. "Helping."

Jem shook head his, unusually high-spirited, and ready to follow Will's distraction. "You shall help me into an early grave, with all your disappearing acts."

Will grimaced, pulling the mood back to normal. "I am sorry about those. But they were necessary." _If only because I might be able to save your life. _Will thought inwardly, hoping that Arianna was right, and his powers would be within if he needed them. He would gladly give up another pair of wings if it meant saving Jem. What he had done from the watcher's quarter had been a selfish impulse, to defy Raziel and become involved. As Will and Jem were put to work adding immobilisation runes to the existing circles, Will looked at Jem, and for a moment, the shadow-heartbeat was just as strong as his own. "James," Will began, and Jem looked up from the rune-circle he was kneeling by, silver eyes honest and accepting. "You must know that…" Will didn't know what he was trying to say until the words came by themselves. "Beyond being grateful for you saving my life, twice in fact-" He said, waving away Jem's protests that anyone would have done so, he continued, "You are worth far more than that to me. You are like a brother, and I wanted you to know that."

Jem looked at him, long and steady. "I do not know how you came into our lives," he said softly, laying his stele on the ground to clasp Will's hand. "But I believe it was more than coincidence that our paths crossed when they did." A smile crept into his face. "I think we were meant to be, Will. And nothing, _nothing_, can break what God has bound." He finished, quoting from their Parabatai rite.

Will grinned at the boy who would give his life for him, and Jem smiled back. There was no greater honour in Will's mind than to have the trust of such a person. A person who, in the space of a few short months had changed his world. _It is going to end well. It has to. _

Will handed Jem's stele to him. "I wouldn't want you to share my reputation of being a layabout." He said, winking, and Jem laughed. "There is little risk of that."

"True. My reputation is legendary." Will agreed, pushing back the disgust at having to create such a reputation in the first place.

It took a further hour and a half to place all the planned marks, enchantments and barriers, in which time several Shadowhunters had made an informal gathering at the edges of the cliff, with Magnus and Ambrose lying flat on their backs a little way off in the grass, claiming exhaustion. Will didn't doubt it – they had all been working hard. Will and Jem were one of the last to cross the crescent- moon shaped glamoured area, behind which everyone hid. Once activated, everyone inside would be concealed from view.

The murmur of Shadowhunters was matched only by the cawing of unseen gulls behind them.

Will shrugged on his coat to protect against the wind and sat, stretching his legs out in front of him. Jem was next to him, telling Tessa tales of shipwrecks and pirates, all of which she took in with a rapt delight, never hesitating to question the name of this pirate's ship or the location of that hide-away. Several times Will had to bite his tongue to stop himself laughing out loud, even as Jem laughed freely.

His memories flickered to her laugh when they had skated over the frozen river, dusk falling and breath rising in the mist. An ache began in his chest for what he knew he could never have - normalcy. Peace. Will looked up to the sky, stretching out both his arms, irrationally wishing that if only he stretched far enough, he'd be able to see the tell-tale shade of blue in heaven.

"You know even with your throwing abilities," Jem said to him as Tessa stared out into the sea, "the sun is a long way to be reaching for."

Will let a smile lift his lips. "When has the impossible ever stopped me?" Jem rested his jade cane across his knees and narrowed his eyes at Will. "I think you would make the attempt simply because it _was_ impossible."

"Speaking of, what about…" Will trailed off as he noticed something, reacting only when Jem touched his sleeve to bring his attention back to the present. Suddenly there was the sickening sound of a snapped neck that could be heard from meters away, because all the birds had stopped singing.

Will leapt up and automatically raced towards the sound, where the tall Frederick Ashdown was holding the body of his wife, her head at an odd angle. Behind him, six feet high stood a clockwork creature, the faint sun glancing of its stained metal armour, only dulling at the point of the long sword fused into its elbow joint.

The Shadowhunter was in no state to act, and as the metal monster jerkily raised its arm Will leapt up, slicing its head clean off the same time the raised arm was cut apart from the body. Will moved out of the way as the creature fell to the ground with a muffled thud, nodding at Jem on the other side. "Nicely done, James." Will said quietly, stepping back to give some privacy to Mr Ashdown. Jem did the same. "I wasn't certain if you would make it in time." He replied, sorrow clear in his expression. Jem's sorrow quickly turned to alarm as Will turned and flung his dagger past him, barely missing Jem's face.

There was another thud as a second clockwork creature hit the ground behind them, feet away from the first. Mr Ashdown had taken his wife and left the battleground. "I always make it in time." Will said to a rather breathless Jem.

There were shouts of alarm as two more clockwork creatures appeared among the group of Shadowhunters, swiftly cut down with soft screeches of metal and flying sparks. Then there were more and more, with every Shadowhunter standing to defend themselves.

"They're multiplying!" Will said to Jem as he prevented one clockwork man from cutting Will clean in half by Jem kneeling and slicing out his knees with a bright blue seraph blade.

"I know." Jem replied, looking round at the ensuing chaos. The more they struck down, the more seemed to appear. A quick glace behind through the one-way barrier showed them the area they had so carefully marked up was empty.

Will swore. "It's a trap. And these…" He paused to stab one construct through the chest, pulling his sword out with a forceful jerk as it caught in the gears. "Have to be a diversion." Another glance showed that there were at least two metal monsters to every one Shadowhunter. Even Magnus and Ambrose were surrounded, sparks flying from their hands. A thought occurred to Will. "They're like the Hydra," Will said, frowning as he recalled the Greek myth of the beast that, once slaughtered, grew back twice as many heads.

"You don't think…" Jem looked at Will, his expression serious as Will nodded. "You do. Very well, how do we tell everyone?"

Will plunged his seraph blade into the ground, pulling out his stele. _If this doesn't attract attention to what I was, then nothing will._ And he began to draw, every thought in his mind focusing on the message he wished to send. "Don't kill them. The clockwork creatures are under a spell so they multiply when defeated. Stop them without killing them." Over and over Will repeated the words, his hand aching with the speed he created curling runes around the blade. He knew his voice would echo in every Shadowhunter's mind as he completed the final rune, binding the blade in a circle of joint runes.

Two things happened simultaneously. Every Shadowhunter froze, just for a single moment, and in the same moment, the area they had marked flared up, purple flames around the perimeter blazing twenty feet high. The light cast them in shadow, the heated wind whipping their hair back.

Will narrowed his eyes to see through the flickering flames, and his heart sank. Over twenty automatons stood facing them, a space of several feet between each one, and like a regimented army, Will counted almost the same number stretching further inland. _Over two hundred of them._ Only a small break in the regimented formation suggested where Mortmain was – in the centre, surrounded by his servants.

Mortmain.

Will looked up at Jem, whose eyes were wide with concern, but not despair. "Trust you to attract trouble." Jem mirrored Will's own words from the raid on Mortmain's lair. Will clasped Jem's offered hand and stood, staring out at an inevitable force.

"It's trouble that normally finds me." Will replied, gripping a dagger with a bruising hold. "And this time, I'm quite sure it's here to kill us."


	7. The true reason

_There are so many_, Jem thought as a silence more fragile than glass descended onto the cliff. Deep purple flames licked the feet of clockwork men who paid them no attention. They were indeed an army, devoid of mercy and regimented in action. Jem realised his heart was racing, and looked behind him at Will, whose face was drawn and pale. "It's not time to abandon hope." Jem murmured to him, to prevent breaking the silence as much as to alleviate Will's worry.

Jem needn't have bothered lowering his voice. The silence shattered as Mortmain's voice boomed over the entire cliff, amplified like a circus master's. "I know you are here, Shadowhunters." His voice held a light tone, as though he were enjoying toying with them. "My creations spill your blood even as you try to fight the inevitable."

Will's frown only deepened as he heard this, and placed his open palm onto the embedded seraph blade. "Damn it," He growled, and Jem felt his discomposure through the turbulence of his blood. It had begun to rain, the water doing nothing to dim the flames that were their first defence against the attack, but even they wouldn't last for long. "Hope is the very least we need." He continued, and began speaking so fast Jem had some trouble keeping up. "Mortmain is using this multiplying spell to destroy us at best, and weaken us at worse. His army is reserved for the death of the visiting Shadowhunters, so he doesn't want to use them on us. Even if those containment spells weren't working, Mortmain isn't likely to waste them on what he considers below him." Will paused, only to close his eyes above the seraph blade and hold his stele over it like a compass. "James, I need to contact everyone, or we will be slaughtered." His blue eyes snapped open and stared straight into Jem's, the sheer trust in them clouded by a soft desperation that Will betrayed nothing of in his expression. "I need you to shield me while I work."

Jem didn't hesitate, though he had little clue of Will's plans. "Of course."

All around them the fight resumed and it appeared that somehow, the others knew not to kill the automatons. Several short bursts of what looked like white lightning shot up from the ground, and Jem nodded in satisfaction as he realised Henry's devices had been used. _Good for him._ Jem stepped forward, readying his blade as a clockwork man felled a Shadowhunter and began moving towards him.

Will reached for an inner calm he'd never been able to reach before as he sank back into the damp grass. Pushing his fingertips deeper into the rune-marked earth, he drew on every piece of knowledge he'd acquired over the last five or so centuries. Every skill, whether forbidden or encouraged, invented or learned, wild or expected ran through Will's being as he felt for the minds of those fighting around him. He had no idea whether Raziel had left him some of his angelic powers by design or whether desperation proved Arianna's thought that Raziel could never have truly taken his powers away at all to be true.

Will was only lightly aware of Jem's comforting presence in front of him, and then he was aware of nothing but the minds he was flowing into. Memories and skills ran through him like waves over rocks, and Will took only a heartbeat to linger in each Shadowhunter's mind. Just long enough to pick out the specialities, if they worked better together or alone, Parabatai in the group and those who were more vulnerable. Those likely to improvise and those used to set methods of fighting. _Right._ Will took a deep breath, gathering together the individuals who would work well together. _Move towards the northern-most point of this barrier. Wait until the flames subside then fan out and disarm Mortmain's creatures. Mortmain hides in the centre of the formation, but it is unnecessary to seek him out. Be careful too - it is not known if they contain the same spell as the ones that ambushed us here do._

Will pulled his mind away from the exclamations of surprise, shock and gratitude he felt in the Shadowhunters' reactions. He only prayed they took heed of his words.

He did the same with the others, and gradually the crowd of tumultuous thoughts subsided. Will touched the minds of those closest to him – Charlotte and Henry were the easiest to find. Their minds were like a balm on the ice in his heart, and finally, when all others had their instructions, he searched for the mind so dear to him. _Tessa._ With a frustrated growl, Will realised he could not reach her. He could feel her presence, her exhilaration and beneath that, fear. But he could not speak to her. She was near Charlotte, so Will assumed that she had been informed of the new tactic, but it ached that he could not reassure her, tell her nothing would happen to them. Inside, Will knew he shouldn't be surprised – his attempt to contact Magnus and Ambrose had failed similarly. Gradually, Will became aware of the numbness in his legs and the stiffness in his dampened fingers. Just before he fully returned to his body, Will found Jem's mind a mere heartbeat away from his own. _Thank you, my friend._

"Thank you." Will said aloud, opening his eyes to see Jem standing on his left. Jem's pale jacket was ripped and his left arm was bleeding profusely. Jem's shoulders relaxed as he turned to him. "By the Angel, Will. What did you do?" And he held out his uninjured hand to help him up. Will accepted, wincing as his muscles screamed in complaint.

"I picked up a skill some time ago," Will began, tugging his stele out from his own coat and drawing an Iratze on Jem's bleeding wrist. "That gave me the rather useful ability of being able to speak into other Shadowhunters' minds. That skill, in addition to some rather tricky strategizing means that we are going to ambush Mortmain the way the snake attempted to do to us."

Will watched carefully as Jem stretched his wrist back and forth, testing the movement. "Speak into minds…" Jem hesitated. "Is… Is Tessa-"

"She is well. Tessa was with Charlotte the entire time." Will said quickly, hiding how he himself had worried for her even while flying through the maze of minds. Jem smiled in relief, lighting up his face. His hair was darker from the rain and eyes burning bright. "One day you will have to take me to whoever taught you these things." Jem joked and Will's heart lurched as he imagined Jem as one of the Mists. "Not yet." Will replied darkly, and Jem's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I wouldn't want both of us to be able to contemplate world domination at once." He said, forcing his tone to be neutral.

Jem laughed. "What a terrifying thought." And Will contentedly supplied him with all the laws he would make if he were an emperor, including outlawing the presence of ducks and declaring every Friday a chocolate day as they walked towards the centre of the barrier. There were mangled pieces of metal scattered across the grassy expanse, here and there were whole clockwork creatures that had been burned from the inside out, and a few in one area all seemed to have developed thick layers of copper-coloured rusting on their joints.

The purple flames were dimming faster, and it was only a matter of minutes before they were gone completely. Though it was not where Will wanted to be, left of the centre of the barrier was where Tessa was. As Jem saw her, his pace sped up, leaving Will behind. Will smiled crookedly as he watched them embrace, and saw Charlotte taking Henry's arm to give them some space.

Tessa's expression glowed as she held Jem's healed hand in hers, speaking rapidly. Will tore his eyes away from them to examine his work.

_How different they are to the Mists. _Will mused, observing the small groups of fours or fives he'd created, standing ready as the flames dropped to waist height. He'd been relieved they'd lost no more of their number. They were spread evenly, one group each at the tips of the glamoured area accompanied by the warlocks, two further in, and one in the centre. Once the flames died, they would have the element of surprise for a short while only. "Would you be proud of me, Raziel?" Will asked the bitter question to the sky above him.

"You know he would be, child. He always has been." Will turned to see Arianna standing tall beside him, oddly enough not seeming too out of place among the weapons and grey drizzle.

"I'm glad you recovered." Will said, feeling strangely shy, an emotion he'd only ever felt twice before.

Arianna smiled, facing the roaring sea so her raven hair whipped back from her face, gathering her ever-green dress in her hands to prevent it dragging in the dirt. "I'm stronger than I look. Something people forget to give credit for."

Will turned his back on the waiting Shadowhunters – the flame was knee-high, he noted – and clenched his fists. "I – I don't want to fail them." He said softly. "They saved me, and if _anything_ happens to them…" Will trailed off, his memories of flames and blood rushing to the forefront of his mind.

"Sweetheart, what happens is not in our control. Some things are meant to be, while others we can influence." Arianna said comfortingly, and Will felt a sudden urgency in his blood. Glancing behind him, where the fire was eating at the ground, Will spoke quickly. "Are you here to influence or observe?"

Arianna laughed, fading as she did so. "I am here to fight in a war that has dragged on for far too long. Just remember, you are still _you_, the person you were born to be. You have, and always will be your father's son."

"Will!" Jem was running towards him, waving his arm. "They're nearly ready." Will nodded and met Jem halfway down the field.

Will crossed his fingers as he ran. By the time they reached their place in the most vulnerable place, dead-centre in the crescent of the glamoured barrier. Mortmain had made no further comments on their presence, and the purple flames finally died in the grass, emitting grey-blue smoke.

Will tightened his grip on his sword and plunged it hilt deep into the glamour-shield, watching hairline cracks radiating out. _On my signal,_ he said, touching all the Shadowhunters minds at once. The cracks widened and shattered soundlessly, disappearing before they reached the ground.

_Now! _

Will surged forward, one pebble in an avalanche as all around him did the same. Before the automaton in front of him had time to process their sudden appearance, Will had twisted his blade into the weak spot in chest where brass cogs sparked sporadically. The automaton twitched violently and fell, arms jerking in the manner of defence. Will paused only a moment to see that a double had not appeared. _They are unspelled._ Will broadcasted, and as the next automaton stopped up to take the fallen one's place, Will felt a slight prickle of unease. It wasn't logical – in fact, everything was going as planned. The runes were gradually taking effect, holding the rows of automatons closest to them immobile while Shadowhunters cut them down like falling leaves. The shells of metal fell to the ground with a barely noticeable _thud _on the grass, leaking oil creating black pools in which Will briefly glimpsed his reflection, dominated by the glare of his crimson seraph blade. Despite their positive start Will felt a kind of unease gnawing at his confidence.

The concern did not stem from the capabilities of the spells, nor from his conscience – the automatons had no souls, no emotions. It was almost a blessing that Mortmain had not enslaved mundanes – the slaughter would not be welcomed by even the most bloodthirsty Shadowhunter.

_So what is it? _Will shook his head to clear the doubts and pressed on, narrowly avoiding an axe to the neck by weaving away only to push forward and slice the modified arm off the body. Unfortunately, the rest of it still came, gears clicking madly. Will hesitated for a second, feeling for a moment as though he were in two places; both in himself and a few paces to the right. Will closed his eyes for a single heartbeat and pulled back. As he opened his eyes Will saw Jem's blade sear through an automaton with such force it hit Will's opponent too and sent them both to the ground in a spray of sparks. Will grinned as Jem sailed by him, pale hair curling in the rain. "Not bad!" Will said, and Jem threw a grin in reply, before his attention was called away to an automaton with what looked like carving knives in both of its metal hands. _Never a dull moment._ Will though as he followed Jem into a new fight.

Tessa bit back a word Aunt Harriet would have disapproved of most strongly as one automaton, a horrible thing far taller than she was, slammed its sword down, the reverberations of her own parry resonating through her aching arms. Tessa quickly considered changing into someone, perhaps Mortmain himself to fool the creature the way she had in the warehouse with her brother- with Nate. She instantly dismissed it, deciding to rely on her training and so intending to distract it, swung wildly against the automaton, succeeding only in pushing it back a pace. It was curious – every creature that had come before her seemed almost reluctant to hurt her. As Charlotte appeared suddenly in front of her, electrum whip raised above her head only to come down and diagonally cut the monster in half. "Thank you." Tessa called to Charlotte as she raced on ahead, quickly disappearing into the sea of darting Shadowhunters and dull metal. "Ah!" Tessa exclaimed as a sharp stab of pain cut through her right calf. She looked down to see the fallen automaton with a dagger covered in rust and blood – her blood. Without thought, Tessa plunged her sword into the creature's chest and twisted it. In that moment the pain had meant nothing, but she had imagined that it was Jem hurt, or Charlotte, or Will, and for a single second Tessa felt as though she could fell an army to protect those she cared about. Those who had been continually threatened because of her power. _Women don't have those kinds of feelings…Bloodlust, I suppose. Fierceness. Warrior feelings._ She'd told Will, once, and now she understood why he had given her such a strange look. Tessa realised now, in the midst of battle, that it didn't matter whether you were a man or woman, warlock or Shadowhunter or mundane: She had people in her heart that she would protect, regardless of the cost. Those were her thoughts as she took advantage of each automaton's reluctance to harm her – most likely on Mortmain's orders, she noted distantly – and thrust her sword in the weakest part of their front carapace, in the jointing as Henry had pointed out. It was only when the adrenaline had receded slightly that Tessa noted with a certain detached alarm that her leg had become numb, her black gear dyed a dark scarlet from the blood.

Tessa stumbled back, out of the foray toward the cliff's edge, not for the first time wishing that that the Shadowhunter runes worked on her kind. _Whatever I am._ Tessa thought firmly as she collapsed on a patch of soggy grass. Taking shallow breaths she carefully stretched out her leg and winced. The gash was perhaps a hand's-span high, but Tessa could tell it was deep both by the searing pain and by the amount of blood. "Don't panic." Tessa told herself, quite calmly as she removed the outer layer of her gear and used a dagger strapped to her waist to cut a strip off the thin blouse she wore beneath. _Jessamine would have a fit over the waste of good material._ Tessa thought as she placed an end of the foot-long strip around the cut closest to her ankle, and began winding it round and up. A terrible scream made Tessa jerk and look upwards only to have her vision blocked by dozens of automatons, moving like insects against an increasing number of Shadowhunters. Tessa blinked the increasingly heavy rain out of her eyes to check, but she was sure there _were_ more Shadowhunters, dressed not in black gear but in strange fabrics of all colours. They were illuminated in the occasional crack of lightning accompanied by a roll of thunder so loud it seemed to come from the earth beneath them. _The visiting Shadowhunters!_ Tessa realised with a relieved laugh. _They've arrived. _Tessa felt almost gleeful as she tucked in the loose end of the bandage. _We are going to end this. _

"Miss Gray." A cool voice said from behind her. "At last. You have been most elusive."

Tessa's heart raced and instinct took over as she gripped the dagger she had used and swung her arm behind her. The man who had haunted her life and dreams for months simply laughed humourlessly. "I'll have none of that." His voice said sharply, and Tessa cried out as the dagger was ripped from her grasp. Suddenly Mortmain was kneeling before her, dressed in a darkening brown flannel suit. "We don't want any accidents like our last meeting."

Tessa forced out a laugh, choked with fear that she refused to show. "You are referring to when you failed?" She said, almost reaching a careless tone.

Mortmain gripped her wrist tightly. "I refer, Miss Gray, to when you did not co-operate with me. You recall what happened?" Mortmain made a grand sweeping gesture with his free hand, motioning to the metal monsters that moved like insects among the ever-increasing number of Shadowhunters. "Your friends died."

_Agatha. _

_Thomas. _

_Nate. _

Tessa tried to rip her hand out of Mortmain's grasp. The creatures out on the fields were no monsters – the only monster was right beside her. Mortmain only held it tighter, and Tessa was sure that there would be bruises later. "They'll still defeat you." Tessa said through teeth gritted against the combined pain from her leg and wrist. Mortmain said nothing, only drew strange shapes in the air that glowed a dull red before fading into nothingness. After perhaps ten such shapes, Mortmain stood, pulling Tessa with him and she tried not to cry out as her makeshift bandage was put to the test.

"I do not think so." Mortmain said, with as much certainty as he would have regarded the black sky and confirmed it was raining. With every second that passed, Tessa felt further and further from the safety of her combat knowledge and more alone. _Alone._ She had been that way for far too long. "Who am I?" Tessa demanded suddenly, raising her voice above the howling wind that drove the rain into the ground like tiny shards of glass. "If your plan is so sure, your success guaranteed, then what is the harm in telling me that one piece of information?"

Mortmain did not answer her for a long moment. He seemed to be waiting for something, and Tessa glanced at the torn battlefield with dread, and the dread tightened into something darker as ten pillars of the same red-brown light as the shapes shone through the silver sheets of rain. "What have you done?" Tessa whispered in horror as she heard more screams, terrible sounds that were cut off before they ended properly. Tessa felt her eyes cloud over with tears as she prayed with everything she was that those screams did not belong to the people that had brought her into their lives._ Please, please stay safe._

"Shadowhunters think they have the monopoly on power," Mortmain said in a low tone, his eyes hardening as he looked on at the slaughter. "But they are incapable of controlling even their own creations."

Thoughts joined up in Tessa's mind like the jigsaw puzzles she had played with as a child. "You used the Pyxis." Tessa said, barely noticing that she was shivering, her soaking hair dripping cold water down her neck.

"I did." Mortmain said, watching with satisfaction as bodies fell, even those of the other automatons. "Clockwork bodies with demonic energy laced into them – my finest creation, second only to yourself. They will stop for nothing, save death."

Tessa bristled despite herself. "You may have created me, but you will never control me." She said, and reached for another dagger hidden by her hip. Tessa drew it slowly, and hesitated. _Am I capable of murder?_ Instead of the rain, Tessa saw her Aunt, lying on what would be her deathbed, peaceful in deep sleep. Nate waltzing her round their living room merged with his blood-covered hands reaching for her. The sound of the Shadowhunters deaths were like a poison inside, threatening to tear her humanity from her in order to take a life that had caused so much pain.

Tessa had hesitated a second to long. Mortmain turned his head and the dagger dropped to the ground, her hand rendered immobile by his cold fingers clamped around her wrist.

"I believe we established you will not escape this time, Miss Gray." Mortmain said pleasantly, and began chanting in another language, each word forming a portal not unlike the one that had taken her here. Only this portal, she knew, would never bring her home. It opened, black and shapeless only feet from the edge of the cliff and the sheer drop on the other side.

"Get your hands off her." A low, dangerous voice said from behind them, and Mortmain spun, quickly stopping as a seraph blade made contact with his throat. Tessa had been pulled round too, and cried out in joy. "James!" He was bedraggled and bleeding profusely from his right shoulder, and yet his lips were bloodless with rage. If Tessa had not been so relived, she may have been scared.

When Mortmain said nothing, Jem increased the pressure on the blade, and a line of red was quickly washed down by the pouring rain. Mortmain's reaction was a thin smile. "Do it, Shadowhunter. Kill me. My work is nearly done."

Jem's eyes were hooded as he replied. "I should. For the pain you have caused and the evil you have done I would like to. But I cannot. You should stand trial and answer for your crimes."

Mortmain leaned away from the blade as though its presence was merely discomforting. "You _are_ weak – James Carstairs, wasn't it? The one no better than an opium addict."

Jem's expression darkened with disgust as Mortmain continued, the portal closing into nothingness behind him as the spell was halted. "You will continue to honour your foolish codes and cannot harm me. Therefore-"

"Therefore you will let go of Tessa in the next sixty seconds. I have no qualms about pushing this blade straight through your chest into your black heart if you don't." A dark shape had been streaking through the rain, and it resolved itself into Will, cheekbones flushed with fervour and holding a long sword with the point resting over Mortmain's chest. "I have very few morals at all, really." Will added, one side of his mouth turning upwards.

Tessa's heart was beating so hard she thought it would come right out of her chest. She had never been so fiercely grateful to anyone as much as she was to the two boys standing in front of her.

Tessa was looking in their direction, so didn't feel the spell aimed at her. The last thing Tessa knew was a numbness devoid of colour or sound, then the blackness of unconsciousness.

"You bastard!" Will and Jem shouted in tandem, Jem returning his dagger to Mortmain's neck, Will clenching his free fist in readiness for use.

"You children are very melodramatic." Mortmain mused. "She's only unconscious. I wouldn't permanently harm my own work."

A clap of thunder hid his next words, and Will's mind raced like the clockwork gears of the automatons slaying their own and Shadowhunters alike. They were sustaining heavy casualties – Will could feel every death like a short stab to the heart as their minds faded from his consciousness. Mortmain was right -they couldn't stand frozen in the storm forever. Jem would abide by Shadowhunter law, which would mean capturing and holding Mortmain somehow until the fight had either been won, or there was no one left to judge him. Will shook his damp hair out of his eyes.

_James, could you bind his hands? I can prevent him using magic while you do. Then we can attend to Tessa. _

Will heard no words in return, only an affirmative surge of emotion. _Now! _

A white bolt of lightning tore the black sky in two behind Mortmain as Jem lunged behind him, and Will drew runes of binding and prevention in the air with his stele. Will swore as the runes faded into nothingness, and when he looked up he saw Mortmain's eyes glowing red as he stepped to the left, letting Jem sail past him. Jem skid on the uneven and wet ground, and then there were no words to describe the pain that burned Will's heart faster and brighter than a dying star. Mortmain wrenched the sword out of Jem's hand as he regained his balance, and Will lunged forward to stop what he saw happening. The black sky flashed blue as thunder roared, and Mortmain drove the sword into Jem's chest.

Jem's eyes opened wide in shock, silver tainted by fear. No longer able to keep his balance, Jem staggered back as the red bloomed from his chest. The next flash of lighting showed a pale shape falling off the edge of the cliff like a feather caught in the rain. Will felt an abyss opening within him, and his body and mind screamed only one thing as he rose from the ground, dragged his own dagger across Mortmain's throat and threw himself off the cliff in one motion.

"_James!_"

Falling was nothing like flight. It was inevitable, uncontrollable, and terrifying. The howling wind and sheets of rain were the sounds and sights of an end.

Will felt a tearing pain in his back as he reached for Jem's unconscious form, head back and arms spread falling only feet away. They would both die, he knew, from the impact with the ground. Hopeless tears joined the rain on his face as the wind whistled past them, the white cliff looking grey against the storm.

_James, hold on! _

The burning on his back increased, and suddenly Will felt muscle and bone he had long since given up hope of ever regaining. Without pausing to wonder, Will opened his wings and raced down, faster than he had ever dared, catching Jem as the ground loomed near beneath them.

"Jem," Will whispered, careful not to jar the hilt in his chest as he tightened his grip on Jem's narrow shoulders. Looking around, Will saw the tide was out. Spreading his wings out as far as they would go, Will slowly descended to the sandy floor at the foot of the cliff, and gently lay Jem out, cradling his head in his hands.

For the darkest moment, Will thought it was too late. Jem's pale eyes were closed, and he wasn't breathing. "Please no," Will murmured, frantically. "Please, God, no. James-" he said, "wake up, please wake up…" The rain continued to fall on them, a sign that had heralded the arrival of more Shadowhunters now mocking the greatest loss.

"Will…" The barest whisper came from Jem's ashen lips, so softly Will barely heard him.

"James, you have to stay with me, you can survive this."

Jem's pale eyes fluttered open weakly. "You always liked to believe the impossible. This is…better than dying because of…the drug." he sighed disjointedly, the words little more than a breath.

Will cradled Jem close to him, taking his hand. "You have to hold on, Jem."

Jem drew in a shallow breath that turned into a cough, leaving blood trailing down the side of his mouth, but his hand tightened around Will's. "Will…" Jem whispered faintly. "I think I'm seeing things. You … appear to have wings."

Will gave a choked laugh, bringing his dark wings in to shield them from the rain's onslaught. Leaning over to reply in his Parabatai's ear, he said "I'm an angel." Suddenly the pressure on Will's hand lessened as Jem's eyes closed again.

Will's heart stuttered, becoming as faint as the dying shadow-pulse he knew was Jem's. The panic welled up, desperation taking over and spilling into a stream of words. "No, Jem look at me please. It can't end this way, _I won't let it_. I can heal you, there has to be a way." A memory of the night he'd found himself on the cold cobblestones of London emerged, and Will clung to its presence like a drowning man. "It's raining, see? It was like this when you found me, when you saved me." Will saw the blood leaking into the sand, and Jem's breaths were fewer and farther between. "You can't go, dammit. You can't leave me." Will whispered, pressing a hand over Jem's exposed Parabatai rune where he could feel the laboured beating of Jem's heart.

Jem's eyes remained closed when the smallest smile lifted his lips. "Be happy, Will." As Will felt each beat grow weaker and weaker, Will felt it as though it were his own heart stopping, unable to bear the strain of surviving. Will became incapable of thought. Jem had been his reason to continue living for so long…

Will felt a final pulse, then silence.

Nothing but silence.

"No!" Will screamed into the rain, fixing on the person who had caused this, someone who he could blame for the unbearable grief. "Raziel! You give him back to me, you bastard! _Bring him back!"_

Will struck the ground in frustration. The war raged on above them, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. _There must be something-anything –that could…_ His thoughts had no order, because what but chaos could exist in a world where Jem wasn't beside him?

Will inhaled long and deep, breathing in salt water and despair and calm.

"_You have, and always will be your father's son."_

Will closed his eyes, hand resting on Jem's silent chest. _This blood of mine cannot be without its own power._ Will concentrated on it, the pulsing of the element that sustained life and traced Jem's Parabatai rune. "The body is just a shell." Will whispered, and channelled the power that fanned from the very tips of his wings into the mark, trying to block the image of the sword protruding only a hair's-breadth away from it. Will followed the power through, letting his being move past the barriers of his own body and into Jem's. The extent of the damage – torn skin and drug-damaged muscle, what once gave life rendered to uselessness – made Will want to forget the monster that did this, and think only of escape. But he didn't. Will sensed deeper, past silent cells and pale bone until he reached something far more precious. _There you are. _

Will shaped his power into a thread that reached through the shell and caught Jem's soul. It was so weak Will could barely sense it, and so subconsciously began to feed the link with memories and emotions. _Jem, alive and well, laughing, training. Following the trail of muddy paw prints to see which tree Church had become stranded in. Jem smiling at Tessa and Will, only a few hours ago._ Slowly, so painstakingly slowly, Will opened his eyes to see the memories became corporeal, a thin white thread forming on Jem's Parabatai rune, glowing gently in the storm. Will poured his heart and mind into it, channelling every memory he had, every strand of strength he had left. Every hope he had given up on.

The thread stretched and grew like ivy until it reached up and like a miniature sun, blazed bright. Will tugged his gear aside to expose his own Parabatai rune, and the cord of light touched the rune on his skin, filling it with a golden glow that threw the doors of his mind wide open and a consciousness he cared for more than any other infused his every nerve.

_Will? _A voice whispered in his mind, weary and weak.

Will laughed in exuberance, the thread glowing brighter and brighter as more of Jem's mind ran into his own.

_James, you're safe, I have you. _

The thread grew taught, the unnatural state of Jem's spirit torn from his body taking its toll. It snapped suddenly, fading into nothingness and Will looked down at his glowing Parabatai rune, the only bright thing in the world.

_I have you, Jem. _

Will felt Jem hesitate. _I don't understand,_ he said, voice echoing in Will's mind. _One body can't hold two souls._

"I don't have a normal body." Will said, somewhat strained. The world was blurring and his own vision was becoming distorted. He couldn't feel the wings on his back anymore.

_Even you have limits. _Jem sighed, exactly as he had when Will had attempted to leap over a large pond with one jump, and ended up with pond weed all over him.

"I think I've… just reached it." Will said as he slumped over the empty shell of Jem's body. Then there was nothing at all.

No more silence, but no words either.


	8. Unbroken promises

**Hello :) This is the final chapter of this fic - and as such I hope any confusions readers found are answered in this chapter. If not, please feel free to PM me questions about the fic :-) **

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Will stared up into the bright sun before looking away, pressing his white sleeve to his forehead as a wave of dizziness passed.

_Are you well? _

"I'm fine." Will replied under his breath to Jem's concern. It was true – mostly. Ever since that day where he had taken Jem's soul into his own body, Will experienced flashes of weakness where his body seemed to forget how to work for a moment. They were becoming less frequent, but Jem still worried over every missed step and stumble. _You concentrate on your own health. _Will changed to thinking his words instead as a Shadowhunter near him looked his way curiously.

Then Will thought very little as his mouth went dry. They were bringing out the bodies of the fallen. The Silent City contained not only records and cells, but also a courtyard large enough to hold the numbers of dead and mourning that had gathered. Twenty three of their own had perished in the fight against Mortmain's demonic creatures, and seven more had been injured too badly to attend. Fifty or so Shadowhunters heralded the passing of their friends and family, all dressed in white like ghosts. Each of the fallen Shadowhunters had been built a pyre, and by each pyre a Silent Brother held a flaming torch.

Charlotte stood at the head of them all, facing the mourners. She had been elected to lead the funeral, Henry beside her with his right hand bound tightly in a bandage – a sword had severed some of his nerves, and the Silent Brothers said he would only regain feeling in time.

"This is a time not to regret the actions taken by those we have lost," Charlotte said steadily, staring out over both the living and the dead. "But a time to be thankful that they did. We can say that an evil has been taken from this earth, and to honour the bravery of those that gave their lives for us, and for the cause we Shadowhunters carry." Charlotte paused as her eyes rested on each one of the dead and her eyes hesitated over one in particular. The pyre closest to her held the body of one the London Institute sorely missed, and Will thought it right that Shadowhunters from across the world honoured him too.

_Will, that is unfair. The others did more than I-_

Will cut Jem off. _Hush. Enjoy your own funeral._

Jem was silent for a moment. _That was morbid, even for you. _

_What can I say? I have a gift for the unusual. _

Jem laughed, the sound like a healing rune all its own. Suddenly it stopped, and Jem's thoughts turned to the person whose fingers Will had taken in his hand unconsciously as they brushed his.

_Tessa. _

She had flatly refused to stay at the Institute.

"I don't care if I am a monster and not allowed to attend," She'd said, head bowed and voice rough as though from disuse. "I respected Thomas and Agatha's sacrifice from here because your protocol said it was so. But Jem - Jem was the best of all of us. I-" She'd swallowed hard. "I _need_ this. To say goodbye." Tessa's hands had clenched so tightly that her nails were dark with blood when she opened them. By that point it was all Will could do not to run to comfort her as every nerve in his body sung with both his and Jem's distress. Jem's anguish had been nearly unbearable.

_It's my fault. I'm the source of her pain. _Jem had repeated over and over until Will knew his saving Jem would be the worst kind of salvation – forced to watch from behind bars for as long as they both survived.

Charlotte had stopped speaking and, pressing her fingers to her heart, said the words of parting with a solemn finality.

"_Ave atque vale!" _

Her voice was echoed by the dozens around them, a soft sibilance that covered for the briefest moment the rushing air of growing flames as the silent brothers lit the pyres of the fallen. Only one voice stood out as it softly murmured, "Goodbye, Jem."

Will turned to Tessa, white-gloved hand pressed over her mouth and shoulders shaking.

"Don't look." Will said, and it was Jem as much as he that drew her to him in an embrace. She buried her head in his shoulder as the flames crackled and hissed. "Remember him as he was because James will always be here, in our hearts. You will _never_ have to be alone." Will spoke rapidly as Jem fought with his own demons. His voice was pale and barely a whisper as he spoke.

_This is beyond pain. It's agony. I can't- reach her. _

_I am so sorry, James. I truly am. _And he was, as he clung to Tessa as though they were both adrift at sea and the pyres in front of them burned, the flames reaching six, seven feet high. Thoughts of the curse didn't cross either of their minds, though Will always knew in his heart that he was the cause of Jem's death, as frequently as Jem himself had denied it. The need for comfort was too great here. Will was glad when the roaring fires covered the sound of Tessa's sobs – she didn't need any comments from others about how Shadowhunter funerals were supposed to be about looking to the future rather than regretting the past. "It will get better," He murmured to her, "I promise."

Will stared at the sky, for a moment wishing he could materialise his wings and fly them all to a safer place, a world without grief and pain.

_That would be a world without life_, Jem said softly.

_I know._ As Will held Tessa tighter, his eyes watered from the smoke that concealed the pale blue sky beyond. At least, that was what he told himself. Jem didn't contradict him.

Three weeks.

It had been three weeks since that day at the cliffs, where everything had changed. And they were still arguing like children.

"He disregarded the laws put in place long before he was thought of, and you want to accept this without a word? Mortmain should have been tried and condemned, not killed on a whim!" Benedict lightwood was pacing up and down the London Institute's largest meeting room, addressing a dozen or so heads of the surrounding Institutes.

_I had a hand in those laws. _

Will felt Jem smile. _You did not._

_I did so. _Will countered and pulled up a memory of him using Raziel as a sounding board, much to Raziel's annoyance, as Charlotte defended him. Will still marvelled at how readily Jem had accepted his heritage, without any disbelief or fear.

"Mortmain's death came about because his own creations became uncontrollable – we all saw they cut down anything in their path, ally or enemy." She said wearily. "There is no need to hold a tribunal for the actions of spirits now returned to the Pyxis that are being pinned onto Will."

Will tried to look as innocuous as possible to help her case. He knew all of the Shadowhunters were relieved that the threat of Mortmain had been permanently eliminated, and that was thanks to Charlotte's actions at Dover. "Therefore, I'm putting it to a vote. All in favour of dismissing this, say _aye_."

Will counted the _ayes_ and smiled. Ten in favour of Charlotte, and only four _nays_ were heard. His smile widened a fraction as Jem joined in on the side of the _ayes_.

_I didn't think you'd approve of my lies. _Will said, only half joking.

Jem sighed. _I don't. But it isn't right that Benedict is using you as a scapegoat for the fact that he lost his source of prestige behind the backs of the Clave._

_Thank you. _

'_There is flattery in friendship.' _ Jem replied, and Will had to bite his lip to stop himself from bursting out laughing at Jem's reference to _Henry V_ as the Shadowhunters left their seats.

_And here I was thinking you weren't partial to literature,_ Will said teasingly.

_Being in your mind has certainly exposed me to new horizons_. Jem said, but Will could feel the contentment in his thoughts.

Will stood, stretching as Charlotte smiled to him from the door and left. Only this morning, she had said she felt Buford kicking and Henry had been so happy he'd tried to cook a special lunch for them all. Needless to say, it was… inventive. Luckily Sophie and Bridget had stepped in so the residents of the Institute hadn't gone hungry.

_You're lucky you didn't have to try it. _

_I think your reaction was strong enough for the both of us_.

As Will walked the familiar path to the library to take out an almanac on ghosts and apparitions, he wondered just how 'normal' this new life could be. Discovering he had not only a mother, but a father who had watched over him made up for the lack of open skies and green expanses. It almost even made up for the longing to fly he knew would never completely disappear. The day after the funeral, Will had sought out Arianna to seek her advice about Jem, whether there was any way he could exist outside Will's own body. While she promised to research if it could be done, she had answered the other question that had been burning Will from the inside.

_Why could I fly? _

As he pushed open the door to the library, Jem cut him off that well-worn path.

_You know she said that your powers can only manifest when you need them most. To have them present all the time would take-_

_Too much of a toll on this human body of mine and possibly kill me. _Will sighed softly. _I know. _

Then the person they had trying not to think of, who had touched barely anything at dinner, who had spoken fewer words as the days passed came into view. A person who meant so much to both Will and Jem, there were no barriers between Jem's quickening thoughts and Will's quickening heart.

Tessa sat on the window seat, feet drawn up beside her and pale blue dress covering all but the tips of her boots. The softly setting sun casting shadows on her face as she glanced up from a thick book. "Will." She said, the barest hint of a smile lifting her lips, the only sign she was glad for the company.

Will's heart stuck in his throat. _She's getting worse. _Tessa had dark shadows under her eyes like crescent moons and the light that always shone through her eyes when reading was gone. She looked closer to the girl mistreated by the Dark Sisters than the constantly inquisitive person who had changed Jem's life, and made Will's so much more bearable.

"Anything interesting?" Will asked softly, motioning to the book in her hands.

Tessa shook her head. "_Antigone_."

Will raised an eyebrow. "Light reading then."

That almost caused a proper smile. Almost. "She wanted to bury the dead, and remember Polynices as he should have been."

_She's suffering. _Jem whispered, and his own pain rang like a bell through Will's mind. _Because of me._

Will had the briefest idea, and ran it by Jem, whose reply was _I have never been as fond of poetry as you have, but if you think it will reach her… do it. _

Will tuned his back to Tessa for a moment, scanning the shelves and his memory. _Christina Rossetti… Third to the left… There. _Will flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for, and settled himself beside Tessa, plucking _Antigone_ out of her grasp and replacing it with the page he'd found. "Go on," he said. "Read. This is a much better example of remembering those who deserve it."

Tessa gave him an exasperated look, the most expression he'd seen on her in weeks. She took a proper look at the poem and slowly began to read. Her voice was so quiet at first, but like a flower opening became stronger.

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

"Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad."

When the poem ended, Tessa lay a hand over the page as if she couldn't bear to look at it. Will waited for her to say something, anything to know he hadn't made it worse.

"I know he…wouldn't want this." Tessa whispered, bowing her head so her brunette hair concealed her expression.

Will reached for the hand covering the page and held it tightly in his. "He loved you more than anything, Tess."

_Will. _

"Then why does it feel like I'd be killing him all over again by forgetting?" Tessa's words were the faintest of breaths, and as Will realised she was trying not to cry. Instinctively, Will put his arm around her and gently held her, fearing she would shatter if he moved too fast. "Listen to me, Tess. No one is saying you should forget, but you have to stop blaming yourself." Tessa inhaled sharply, and Will knew she wondered how he could identify that in her. It was no mystery – Will had done the same thing almost continuously. He also knew how impossible it seemed to stop.

_Will. _Jem's voice was getting more frustrated. _Will, you have to tell her. Save her from this meaningless suffering and tell her._

_I can't. _

_William, if you care for her at all, you will tell her that I'm here_. Jem said darkly, waves of distress and guilt running through Will's veins like poison. It was the closest to a threat that Will had ever heard Jem make.

_James, I can't._ And Will replayed the memory of Raziel cursing him not to tell any of his past. _Tessa will wonder how this is possible, is that not so?_

Tessa rested her head on his chest, and Will's heart sped. Jem's presence seemed to shrink until he was barely there, and Will's concern grew. _Jem, are you alright?_

_If you can't, then let me._ Jem said softly. _Let me have just this moment._ _Just one moment to remember…_

Will knew Jem's idea even before it had fully formed.

_How? _

_Lend me your energy, Will. Lend me your body._

Will inhaled slowly, closing his eyes. Raziel had once told him to meditate, to look inwards while maintaining sensory links with the outside. He hadn't understood then, and still didn't now. What occurred was beyond thought and reason. It was beyond even emotion – it was pure instinct as Will let go of his body and receded into the depths of his own mind. It felt strange, as Jem's soul rushed past him, like two rivers running parallel but never meeting. Then Will knew his body was no longer his own, though he could still feel what Jem felt, saw what he saw.

"Tessa," A voice said. Jem's voice. "My dearest Tessa." She had stiffened in his arms, and when she looked up her mouth dropped open in surprise. Through the reflection in her wide eyes Will could see that he was no longer himself at all. Jem's silvery hair and eyes covered his body like a layer of oil paint. His fingers had become thinner and paler and Tessa saw only Jem when she stuttered "I don't- understand, Jem. Are you a ghost? Where is Will and how can you-"

"So many questions." Jem said wistfully, reaching out and brushing her face with his fingertips. "I haven't much time, Tessa. But you have to know…" Jem lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, and tender touch that sent such fierce emotions through their shared body that he felt he would be swept away by them. "I love you." He whispered to her. "Even if I do not know you in my next life, I will find you and fall in love all over again."

Tessa laughed through her tears. "I miss you so much, James." Her voice shook with emotion. "I find myself with things I know you'll like but you aren't there."

Will felt Jem's yearning to stay, to live and breathe again. To be the one who saw her smile every day.

Jem reached out his arm and brushed the jade pendant Tessa wore above her angel. "As long as you wear this, I will never be forgotten. The day you agreed to marry me created a bond between us stronger than anything."

"Stronger than death?" Tessa asked, wide grey-blue eyes pensive and hopeful.

"If you believe it is."

Tessa smiled, an expression that broke his heart, and threw her arms around Jem, who held her fiercely as though it would never happen again. _Please don't let this moment end._ Their body rang with the thought, with the wish that could never be granted.

Suddenly Will felt lines of fire running through his blood. Jem hadn't noticed yet as he and Tessa spoke softly to each other, lost in their shattering world.

_I am so sorry, Jem. _Will said, trying to be heard. _I can't- _Will was cut off as the fire turned to lightning, a spasm running through his body, throwing Jem back.

Jem gasped for breath as he pressed his hand to the Parabatai rune that was burning. "Damn it." He said quietly, then looked into Tessa's horrified face. "Listen to me." He reached for her hand as another shock ran through him. He waited until her fingers were laced through his until he continued. "I will always be with you, my Tessa."

"I love you, Jem. Always." Tessa whispered back, and Jem smiled like he had never done before, with a kind of peace and hope as their sight began to dim into shades of grey and black.

"_Mizpah."_

It was too much for Will's body – he lost consciousness to the sound of Tessa's heartbeat and the soft touch of her hand.

_James, forgive me. _Will tried to say, but it was too late – everything was already dark.

_Grass. _

Will tried to move his fingers and tried to figure out why his back was on soft greenery rather than the wooden floor of the library. Opening his eyes, Will stared straight into a midday sun, the only blemish in a clear blue sky and he wondered exactly what his fragmented mind had come up with now.

"Easy there," said a calm voice that accompanied the hand on his, pulling Will up until he could see a large pond a few meters away. Strangely, he was only mildly surprised to see he was sitting in Hyde Park as he watched the ducks wading across the water.

"Curious creatures, ducks. Not like humans."

Will turned and let his mouth drop open. Sitting next to him whole, legs crossed with his dragon-headed stick resting on his knees, was Jem.

"James," Will whispered, throwing his arms around his Parabatai, unable to contain the inexpressible joy that grew in him like a phoenix returning to life. He had thought he could never feel hope again, but for once, Will didn't mind being wrong.

Jem returned the embrace, but sighed. "Not anymore, Will – We are no longer Parabatai. Until death, remember?" Will stiffened and drew back, a cloying feeling in his throat. Fighting past it, he choked out, "So I suppose we can still share thoughts even though we no longer share a body?"

Jem laughed, a wonderful, carefree sound that soothed the raw pain that had coated Will's soul since that day. "Well, let's just say that someone thought we weren't quite close enough."

Will gripped Jem's arm. "Why are you here, Jem? Are you weakened? Am I-" Will couldn't complete the sentence. _Am I killing you?_ Tears blurred his vision as he remembered the blood and the rain, and more recently the lines of fire and tears. Cool hands brushed his temples and the memories retreated. "It's not time for that." Jem said. "I'm here to say goodbye to you too. Two souls cannot reside in one body forever, Will, even if that body is yours." He paused, the ghost of a sad smile on his face. "I think I was the one killing you."

Will felt panic rising in his heart. "What can I do? Without you, I am nothing, James, _nothing._ I cannot love, I can only hurt-"

Jem waved away his protest. "You always did like to be melodramatic. You can love, Will. You loved me, didn't you?"

"Of course." Will said softly. "Of course I did. You were my only family when I had no one." Will remembered a thousand conversations, Jem reaching a hand to pull him out of the abyss he had fallen into.

"You also love Tessa." Jem said it without any kind of animosity, only neutrality.

"That's – I couldn't-" _Not after you._ The very notion felt like a betrayal of the deepest kind, the most unforgivable sort. More selfishly though, something in Will had shattered the day he held Jem in his arms. Seeing him whole again, even in a dream, found and separated a tiny but whole fragment from millions of shards.

_It hurts, Will. Being so close to her, but unable to protect her. _

"I'm not saying you have to replace me, but she will need you." Jem said, adding "and you, my friend, will need her." He paused, and Will heard all the angels in heaven forgiving him in the single sentence that Jem's voice echoed in his mind. _You are no longer cursed_. "Now that I am gone, Raziel lifted it. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Will froze. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All he could see was the soft smile on Jem's face. It was as though he'd held Pandora's Box within him, locked away from all that was good, and now the box had opened and joy, hope, relief, all the emotions he had forced back time and time again flooded out. No longer would he have to push everyone away, to fear that his own humanity would cause the death of others.

Jem must have seen the emotions crossing Will's face because he laughed. "Life is for living, brother, so go on and live...for me, too."

"Jem, you – I…"_ I cannot live while you are not beside me. When I fall, I can't find my way back without you._

"You will not have to. I will always be here," Jem touched the centre of Will's forehead, "and here." He finished, lowering his hand to rest on his friend's fast-beating heart. Will closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds, loathe to obscure the sight of Jem, whole and unharmed, but determined not to let the tears spill from his eyes. "I will miss you-" Will said, and found his voice sounded weak._ I'll even miss hearing your violin in the middle of the night. _

Jem laughed again. "Liar." He said fondly. "You always said it sounded like cats being chased."

Will joined in. "I did at that." Suddenly a faint noise echoed in the distance, and while Jem craned his neck behind him to observe the two shadowy figures just out of sight among the trees, Will looked at his Parabatai for what he was quite sure would be the last time. The fall of his silver hair and the way his eyes accepted who you were, and how the sun brushed his pale skin. Jem called back in a fast string of Chinese, and when he turned back his face was alight with happiness. "My parents, Will!" Jem exclaimed, "My parents are here."

Will let out a choked laugh. "Best not keep them waiting then, Carstairs." Jem hesitated, glancing behind him before clasping Will's hand, just like they had in the Parabatai ceremony. "Thank you, Will. You were-" This time, Will heard Jem's voice echo in his heart and mind though his lips mouthed the words. _You were the best brother I could have hoped for in this life. We will find each other again, I swear it._ "I swear it." He repeated aloud, and Will smiled.

"Goodbye, brother." It tore him apart, but he unclasped his hand, and watched as Jem's face was suffused with joy, and leaving behind his jade cane turned and ran towards the forms of his parents. _Let him be happy,_ Will prayed, letting the tears fall once the pearly wings had materialised on Jem's back and lifted him out of sight, a feather taken by the wind. _Let him find peace._

"He will receive the peace he deserves." A voice said from beside him, accompanied by a hand resting on his shoulder. Will didn't need to turn to answer Raziel. "I am glad, father." He said simply, and Raziel made a small noise of discomfort. Will glanced behind him to see Raziel looking troubled. "What is it?" Will asked, concerned.

Raziel's expression lightened slightly, as though he were unused to the confusion but finding it amusing. "You… make me feel _old_, William."

Will couldn't help but laugh as he recalled Arianna saying much the same.

A sudden thought occurred to him as his tears dried and the laughter died away. "What Jem said, about meeting again, is that possible?" When Raziel didn't answer immediately, Will turned properly and was elated to see the Raziel had the expression he had seen countless times before when Will was winning an argument. "_Is it possible_?" Will repeated, and heard nothing but the wind singing of freedom as Raziel nodded slowly. "Centuries may pass before it occurs," Raziel warned, "but particularly since that Nephilim's belief in reincarnation is so strong, yes. You may meet each other again." Will raised his face to the sky, drinking in the sunshine and breathing out happiness. _I'm going to see Jem again!_ Will didn't know how much time passed before the sunlight was replaced by a thin darkness and the wind by a gentle breeze from an open window. Will opened his eyes in his bedroom at the Institute, smiling gently to himself, and wiped the salt traces from his face. The room remained mostly unchanged – though Tessa sat asleep in a chair pulled close to his bed, her breathing soft and even. The rest of his room was still scattered with books and weapons, but inside, Will was free from the weight he'd been carrying since his fall. When he did drift to sleep, it was untouched by nightmares or memories, guided only by the sweet tune of a violin and the light of a pale silver moon.

* * *

**Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with this fic, and thanks especially to those of you who reviewed - they really are much appreciated :) As I said, if there's any remaining confusion, please PM me. That aside, I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading the fic as much as I loved writing it. :-) **


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